by Amy Muscat
Needing something, support maybe, I tug on Lottie's hand and then her arm until she is perched on my lap straddling my thighs. “That’s better,” I say, absentmindedly tracing patterns on her bare legs. I loved the feel her skin; soft, smooth, and warm.
“I got her off of me, and I asked her one simple question; why. She stood there crying and trying to reach for me, but each and every time she did, I flicked her hands away. After asking why for the fifth time; I snapped and screamed it at her, and do you wanna know what she said?” I don’t give her a chance to say anything before I carry on. The question was rhetorical in my head. “She said that she didn’t know, that she was sorry, and that she was drunk last night and that she had never meant to do it– or that she had done it before. Why, was that meant to make me feel better? That she hadn’t cheated on me before?”
Lottie snorted and said, “Stupid bitch,” and her expression said ‘was she for fucking real?’
Raising my eyebrows, I say, “I know right? I asked her if she was drunk right then, and when she said no, I told her that whether or not she was drunk when she had first slept with them, that as she just said; she wasn’t when she had been fucking them just then. She didn’t know what to say after that, just stood there, still crying and saying things that were incoherent. I for one told her things that were coherent; I told her that she had until that night to get her stuff and her cheating whoring-self out of my apartment. Then I went to the nearest bar, and for the next six hours I drank. And drank, and drank. Then I did it for the following three days, I missed days of college, tests; but I just didn’t care. All I cared about was drinking myself into oblivion. My parent’s hadn’t stopped calling me, my brother and sister, Lucy. And then on the fourth day, there was a man next to me at the bar. To be really honest with you; I cannot remember for the life of me what he had said to get me going. But whatever he said got me so mad that I just exploded. I ended up having this huge fight with him. I got arrested, and when I was standing in front of the judge, beaten and bruised, nursing a pain in the ass hangover– he told me I had two options; pay the ten thousand dollar fine and do a thousand hours of community service, or enrol into the army and try and sort myself out. I didn’t want to back to my apartment where all the memories were; they were tainted. I also didn’t– couldn’t– find it in me to see Lucy again, I could just about stand to look at my parents. So I chose the army. And it's the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Wow,” Lottie says truly shocked. Her stunning navy-blue eyes were wide, and even though I could see that she felt sorry for me, (something that I didn’t want), I could also see compassion in her blue depths. “Baby that’s terrible.” As she’s saying this, she moves forward and wraps her arms around me.
My heart clenches.
No one had hugged me, and I mean really hugged me, for so long that I forgot how comforting a simple hug could be. I felt the warmth emanating from Lottie.
After a couple of minutes, she leans back and look up into my eyes and smiles gently. Then she raises her hand up and runs her palm over my jaw; I turn my head into her palm and give the centre a soft kiss.
“I'm so sorry that happened to you, Blake. That woman is a fucking slag. You never have to worry that I would do that to you.” When I raised my eyebrows at the implication of her words, she turned red and started spluttering. “I didn’t– I don’t, I mean I'm not– fuck! What I'm trying to say is; I'm not saying that we’re gonna get married and have babies– especially not now. But, that I hope you feel for me, as I feel for you. I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and say that I think/hope that you like me like I like you. Fuck, why is this so hard?” she asks going redder in the face, and I start laughing. “It's not funny,” she says slapping my chest; I'm taken back to earlier in Keller's kitchen and the kiss we had shared. I felt myself get hard at the thought.
“I'm just going to ask.” Taking what seemed like a fortifying breath, she asked the question that I had been meaning to ask her. “Will you, Blake Walker, be my boyfriend? I promise not to ever cheat on you.”
She waits with baited breath until I put her out of her misery and say, “Yes, Charlotte Carter, I will be your boyfriend. I also promise to never cheat on you.” I grin massively.
With a giggle she says, “Okay boyfriend, now give me a kiss.” But she takes the initiative and grips her hands in my hair and pulls me in for one of the best kisses I had ever received in my life.
“KETCHUP.”
“Tomato sauce.”
“Sweats.”
“Jogging bottoms.”
“Cell phone.”
“Mobile.”
“Mom.”
“Mum. My turn.” Lottie says grinning. “Okay, fringe.”
“A what? What the Hell is a fringe?” I ask confused.
We’d been playing this game for about ten minutes now. She or I would say a word, and the other had to say what their version of the word was; American for me, and British for Lottie.
We were laying on our sides, chest to chest. My head was propped by my right hand, with my left hand stroking over Lottie's naked hips and stomach.
She shivers, and in a slightly husky voice says, “A fringe is a haircut. You know so it covers your forehead?” She makes a motion with her hand to cut a straight line over her forehead.
“You mean bangs?” I was pretty sure that’s what she was trying to say.
“Bangs? Is that what you guys call it?”
“Yeah, well I'm pretty sure. If it's the same thing I'm thinking of, then yes. One minute… where the Hell did the word fringe come from anyway? Why did that word come into your head?” I ask her baffled.
That was a real random word.
“Oh. I saw some lady the other day with them, and I want a fringe or bangs. Do you know what ‘bangs’ means in Britain?” she asks with a sly grin tugging up at her lips.
Curiously, I ask what.
“Bangs means fucking to us. Like if I banged some man the night before, I’d say ‘I banged him last night.’”
“Really? Hmm… I think we should bang again, like right now.” I say, grabbing her leg and hitching it over my hip, as I rubbed my hardening dick in between her wet folds and leaned in to capture her startled gasp.
TODAY WAS FRIDAY, and it was Blake's birthday.
I couldn’t wait to go out and party tonight; it had been a while since I had thrown some shapes around and shaken what my mumma gave me, so I was really looking forward to it.
I was standing in my bedroom getting ready when Blake walks in, but he stops abruptly when he spots me.
“Beauty…” he groans.
“What?”
“You can't go out dressed like that,” he states.
“What? Why not?” I ask frowning over at him.
“Because you look like sex on legs! And every guy in there is going to want you,” he snaps and readjusts his black trousers at the crotch.
I look down at what I'm wearing and don’t see the big deal.
I was wearing a black sleeveless silk top, with spaghetti straps, a pleated tartan skirt that stops mid-thigh, and my black high heels. My hair was wrapped in twists and pulled over onto one shoulder, my makeup was natural, and my lips were painted red.
“Blake, don’t be stupid; every guy will not want me, Keller has Peyton to ogle,” I said giggling at the end.
“This isn’t funny, Lottie. All I want to do is pull down my pants, shove up that tiny skirt you're wearing and fuck the life outta you.” He sounded frustrated and turned on at the same time. He runs a hand through his black hair, and I watch as the navy-blue shirt he is wearing, clings to his chest and pulls at his biceps. I have to fight the urge to bite my lip.
But as I look down and spot the hard-on he is now sporting, I can't hold back the moan that escapes my mouth. He looks yummy. Actually, yummy doesn’t even come close– he looks fucking edible.
His beautiful blue eyes snap to me, and I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly I
find myself slammed down onto my bed, his trousers down by his ankles and my skirt pushed up as he pushes his throbbing cock into me.
GETTING OUT OF THE yellow cab, I straightened my skirt, righted my top, and wiped around my mouth; making sure that none of my lipstick was smudged from the kiss Blake and I just shared.
“Fuck me, Lott's. Now I've gotta go in the club with a semi,” Blake groans as he steps out of the cab, again adjusting his trousers.
“Erm, if I remember correctly; you jumped me in the cab, not the other way around,” I told him.
He grins and says, “oh yeah,” like he had forgotten that he had almost pounced on me not even five minutes into our journey.
“One would think that after having sex not even forty minutes ago, that you would be satisfied.”
“Angel,” he drawled. “I’m insatiable when it comes to you.”
That was true. Our sex life was out of this world. I have never been with someone who could get it up again as much as Blake, and not with someone who seemed to not get enough of me. But then, I had never been with someone who I was constantly lusting over either.
I grin up at him, feeling something flutter inside me, taking the hand that he was holding out to me, I lean up, and press a kiss to his lips.
“Mmm,” he hums onto my lips. “Come on, let’s go. Otherwise, we’re not going to end up in the club.”
As we’re walking into the club, I texted Peyton and ask her where she was.
Where abouts u, girl? Xx
Not even thirty seconds later, she messages me back:
We’re at the bar, I'm sure you’ll spot us–
Keller is glaring at every man that comes within a foot of me!
:-( *Rolls eyes* Xx
I laugh out loud when I read that, and show the screen to Blake, who also laughs.
Pulling the phone back in front of me, I'm still chuckling as I type out:
LOL!!! Tell him to pull those lasers back, we’ll be 2 mins ☺ xx
As we walked into The Spot, I felt the blast of heat hit my face, along with the scent of sweat, perfume, far too much men’s aftershave, and alcohol. I scrunch my nose up at all the smells mixed together and look over to the large bar to see if I could spot anyone from our group.
The bar was massive, round, and packed solid. There were about ten barmaids and barmen serving the loud crowd.
Blake's pointer finger grabs my attention, and I looked over to see where he was pointing to, and I finally see our group; Peyton's red/ginger hair standing out amongst the blonds and brunettes floating around.
Tugging Blake's arm, we swiftly moved through the crowd and was standing in front of everyone within two minutes.
“Hey, guys!” I shout over the music; Ella Henderson’s, Glow was playing– I loved this girl’s voice!
As one, they all turn around, and spotting Blake and I, they shout, “Happy birthday!!”
How very simultaneous of them.
Grinning, Blake's says his thanks and greets everyone– some who I don’t even know, but that’s soon rectified when he turns back to me and wrapping an arm around my lower back, he says, “Guys, this is Lottie; my girlfriend. Lottie, this is Jerry, Greg, and Anna.”
As he said their names, I smiled at each of them, waved and said ‘hi’ to them.
“What do you guys want to drink?” Keller asks us.
“Ohhh, I'll have a Grey Goose and lemonade, please. Blake, you want a Bud?” I ask him, leaning my hip on the bar and gazing up at him.
“Yeah, I'll have a Bud. But I'll get these, Kel.”
Keller waves him away. “It's your birthday, you can't buy the drinks… well not the first ones anyway,” Keller says with a wink and moves over to the bar and tells the bartender our orders.
“Where are Sarah and Jason? Are they not coming?” I ask Blake, not seeing them.
“Oh yeah, they're coming, just gonna be a little late; the babysitter is stuck in traffic, Jason texted me just as we were getting into the cab.” He says into my ear.
“Oh okay.” I nod.
Peyton sidesteps Keller's hand that is wrapped around her waist, and comes over to stand next to me.
She looks gorgeous. She’s wearing a black chiffon dress that stops at her knees and shows off her growing stomach and breasts. Her hair was in an updo with a twist at the back and little wispy bits hanging around her face.
“Hey, hot mumma.” I wolf whistle at her.
She smiles. “Thank you. You look gorgeous too!”
“Ta.” I nod over to where Keller and Blake are standing at the bar. “So… caveman Keller has come out to play then?”
She groans, and mumbles a ‘yeah’.
“He’s driving me mad, Lott's. Sometimes the man is just too overprotective. I understand that I'm pregnant and in a club, but I'm not drinking, and it's not filled up to the point where I can't move or breathe.” She rolls her emerald eyes heavenward.
Laughing, I tell her not to worry, he was just being Keller. “I think it's sort of cute; how protective he is.” She throws me a disbelieving look. “I did say ‘sort of cute’, not fully cute.”
She laughs and leans closer. “How’s everything with Blake, what with what happened the other day and all that?”
“We’re fine now, thankfully. We had a heart to heart. I found out why he blew up like that, and I also found out why he’s a player– or a reformed player, as Blake likes to now say– but we talked, sorted things out. He took me out yesterday to the cinema to watch The Best of Me.”
“No.” She gasped.
“Yep,” I said popping the P.
“Ha! I bet he hated it.”
“Well at first he did, but then he started getting into the film– he even shushed me at one point when I tried saying something to him.” I start giggling, her joining in with me.
“No way, bless him. You're gonna have to make him watch The Notebook now.”
“Oh don’t you worry; I will be. I think we’ll have a Nicholas Sparks weekend soon.” She replies saying that it sounded great– it really did. I couldn’t wait for that.
Blake walks over just then with my glass in one hand and his Bud in the other, and with a chaste kiss on my lips, he passed me my favourite drink.
“Thanks handsome.”
“You're welcome, Angel.” He says with a quip in his voice. He flashes his teeth at me. “I'm gonna go stand at the bar and talk to the guys. You okay over here?”
“Yep I'm fine, Peyton and I are just talking about how much you liked the film last night.”
A look of horror crosses his face.
“Don’t worry birthday boy; I won't tell anyone how much you like chick-flicks,” Peyton says over my shoulder.
“You better,” he grumbles, before scrambling off back to where the others were standing.
We were giggling like schoolgirls when all of a sudden Peyton stops, and in an urgent voice says, “Oh damn; I have to pee. Like yesterday.”
“Come on then,” I say to her. Grabbing her hand, we venture off to where the sign saying ‘toilets’, pushing through the number of people in the club.
We get there ten minutes later– we probably would’ve gotten here quicker, but what with the crowd, and Peyton's waddling, it took us longer than expected.
Peyton burst through the door, and more or less ran for the loo, while I calmly walked over to one of the toilets.
I did my business, hearing Peyton sigh in relief in the cubical next to me. But before I press the flush button, I hear the music get louder before I hear a gaggle of girls walk in.
Their cackling voices go straight through me, making me grimace.
“There're so many hot guys here tonight, I don’t know what one I want to take home.” One of them said.
“I know!” Another said.
“Hey, what’s wrong Lulu?”
Silence, then, “I just saw my ex at the bar.” Her voice, for some reason, grated on my nerves.
“What? No, way!” Another one says.
I flush and walk out of the stall to see four women, one blond and three brunettes, standing at the sinks, touching up their already done make-up.
“Yeah… I think I'm gonna go over and say hello to him, he’s looking hot.” The blond, or ‘Lulu’ says.
They're all done up, wearing short-short dresses– I was pretty sure if they bent over just a touch, that I would see their knickers. (That’s if they had any on.). Their makeup was about three inches thick. They had on bad fake eyelashes. One of the brunette’s hair could actually give Dolly Parton’s hair a run for its money.
But they looked like they had money, lots of money if the blondes Jimmy Choo shoes were anything to go by. They looked like snobby bitches, and for some reason, I instantly didn’t like them.
They look up when I walk out, and I walk over to join them at the sinks, where I wash my hands and fix my lipstick.
Peyton walks out seconds later and joins me.
“Oh God, that feels so much better.” The relief is evident on her, now, relaxed face. “Come on, the boys will be worrying what has happened to us,” Peyton says spinning on her heel.
I raise an eyebrow at the four women and walk out of the bathroom. We walk through the bodies again, and over to the bar where everyone is still standing.
“Hey, where did you guys get to?” Blake asks.
“The toilet, these babies are playing havoc on my bladder.”
“I thought so, Keller's been worried,” Blake says with a smirk.
