by J A Heron
I continue to busy myself, and even when I’m not serving customers, I talk to Benny, keeping my back to the guys making music.
I stand in front of Benny, needing to make conversation to keep me occupied, but she’s not listening. She’s trying to look over my shoulder at Raven. She has blinkers on, not interested in anything that’s trying to distract her, including me.
I stand there moving my lips, with no sound coming out. Benny notices.
“What are you doing? You’re acting weird now.”
“I’m pretending to talk to you. You’re not interested in conversation, so I’m pretending.”
“Oh my God. You’ve actually lost it. Do I need to book you into the psychiatric ward?”
“No, but I’ll be taking you to the emergency department when I’ve kicked your arse.” I follow it up with a laugh. She’s knows I’m not serious, but I am annoyed with her.
“I’m sorry for keeping it from you,” she says with sadness.
“It’s okay.”
“What are you going to do? About Connor, I mean.”
“I’m going to ignore him. Give him a taste of his own medicine. I don’t actually know if he wants to speak to me yet, so for now, I will take it that he doesn’t.”
“Of course he wants to talk to you. He’s been talking Raven’s ears off about you ever since last weekend.”
“He has?”
“Yes. Raven told me. That man has got it bad.”
“We’ll see,” I say with a hint of humour.
Just then, I hear the opening of a song I recognise. It’s the same one that I couldn’t place at Benny’s farce of an engagement party. I can hear the lyrics as clear as day, and I feel my whole body begin to melt. Except Raven isn’t singing, Connor is. I can’t help but steal a glance, and when I do, Raven and Connor have swapped places. Connor is standing in front of the microphone, and through the crowd, his eyes are fixed on me. He gives me a cocky grin, and it makes me want to storm up to him and slap him round the face.
“Wow, he’s hot, and it looks like he’s only got eyes for one girl in here tonight.” Marnie is by my side, and she’s green with envy.
“Shut up!”
“You know this song?”
“Not really. I’ve heard it before, but not really listened to it, if that makes sense.”
“Well, you should. ‘The Boss’ covered it, and it’s one of my favourites.”
“The Boss?”
“Bruce Springsteen. It’s called Jersey Girl.”
“Oh.” I think my mouth is hanging open.
“He sings about a girl he loves in Jersey, but it’s New Jersey in America, not Jersey, The Channel Islands.” She giggles.
“I’m his Jersey Girl,” I whisper.
“What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing.” I shrug nonchalantly. I can’t believe I just said that.
She looks over the top of her glasses at me, seeing right through me.
It’ll soon be time to start clearing up; I need to get out of here.
There are a few hangers-on, those people who haven’t realised the band has stopped, but they carry on singing at great volume. Grumpy has asked them to drink up and leave at least twice, but they’re ignoring him, and he’s irritated.
I laugh as they get the lyrics wrong, and at their out of tune mimic of the band, and carry on cleaning glasses.
In my peripheral vision, I can see the band packing their equipment away, but I refuse to look at him. I did enough of that while he was playing. It’s an uncomfortable feeling being in the same room as someone you fancy the pants off and not talking to him. I’ve worried so much; my make-up is non-existent from rubbing my face, and my lip is sore from biting it. I’ve paced this bar so much, the soles of my shoes are worn.
I wonder if he feels it too. Of course he doesn’t. He’s too cool to show such emotion.
Benny is all over Raven, hanging her arms around his neck. A few girls are hanging around them too, but I’m not willing to pay any attention. Benny is no doubt making her mark on Raven, just so those girls get the message loud and clear that he’s taken. I refuse to get involved. I refuse to make a spectacle of myself.
“Get off home, you two. I’ll finish up,” I offer.
“Are you sure? There’s still a lot to do.”
“I don’t mind. You’ve worked your asses off tonight.”
“Aww, thanks, Kat. You’re the best.” Marnie kisses my cheek and Yan bumps my fist. When they grab their stuff and leave, I realise I must need my head looking at. I’m far too kind for my own good.
I look at the mountain of glasses all stacked up high and sigh. That lot will keep me from looking in his direction.
“Help yourself to a drink, if you want one. You’ve earned it,” Grumpy says. He’s rubbing his hands with glee, and the pound signs in his eyes sparkle. He’s feeling uncharacteristically generous, offering free drinks. It’s a shame I’m on the wagon.
“I’m fine with this, thanks,” I reply, raising my bottle of water and remembering my promise to Benny.
“What? No drink?” His shocked tone makes me giggle. He knows me so well.
“Having a dry couple of weeks, just to give the liver a rest,” I explain.
“Good idea.”
“I won’t be long. Almost finished,” I say as I wipe down the mahogany bar of all the sticky drink residue.
“Good. I need to lock up as soon as. I’m in the office if you need me. I need to lock all this cash away in the safe.”
Connor.
Connor.
Connor.
The very presence of him is playing havoc with my head. Just knowing he’s near sends my pulse racing into overdrive. Being near and being unable to touch him hurts my already aching heart. He makes me feel things. He makes me feel full stop, and I’m willing to bet he’s not thinking about me the way I think about him.
Raven and Benny walk towards me, holding hands and smiling at each other.
“See you back home. We’re out of here,” she says with a wink.
“I’ll be home soon,” I tell her, then watch as the adorable couple can barely keep their hands off each other as they leave.
I take a quick look around the bar and realise there’s no one else around.
Eddie, Nelson, and Connor must’ve left, and the fact that I’ve not had any kind of interaction with any of them causes a frown I’m unable to hide.
I grab my bag then poke my head around the office door. “See you tomorrow, boss. I’m going home.”
“Hold up. I’ll walk you.” Grumpy has always walked me home when he’s asked me to work late.
“It’s okay, Rob. I’ll see she gets home okay.” I turn when I hear his voice. He’s standing right behind me, and I never even heard the sneaky so and so creep up behind me. He’s wearing the most beautiful grin when he sees I’m standing there with my mouth hanging open wider than a wizard’s sleeve.
“I’m good, thanks. I can get myself home.” I refuse both these guys. I don’t want either of them feeling they need to protect me. Thing is, I really want Connor to argue with me. I want him to insist he walks me home. I want him to give me some kind of hint that he wants me.
I move around the huge wall of strength that is Connor and walk towards the door. I shouldn’t have refused him. If I hadn’t, he’d be by my side right now.
You bloody idiot!
I scold myself for being so pig-headed and stubborn. I’m still waiting for him to offer an explanation why he’s not responded to my text.
I may still get my chance.
“Wait up!” I hear him running behind me, even though I’ve only just left the bar. He’s at my side. A wave of his cologne wafts across my face, and I inhale the scent of him. It does wondrous things to me and my lady parts. I should really get a grip.
“What do you want?”
“Well, call me crazy, but I thought we could hang out.”
“You’re crazy.” I giggle. He gives me a quizzical glance then laughs
at my little joke. I should really be making him squirm for ignoring me. “It’s late, and I’m tired. Can we do this another time?”
“Sure we can. But I’d much rather do it now.”
“Okay.” I stop dead in my tracks then turn to him when he stops walking too. “I texted you. A week ago. What’s up? Someone chop off your fingers?”
“How would I play guitar?”
“With great difficulty.”
“Virtually impossible.”
“Enough crap. Why didn’t you respond to me?”
“I didn’t want to seem too keen, plus, I knew we were coming back this weekend, so I thought it would be a pleasant surprise. I guess I was wrong.”
My body language must be sending him negative vibes. My arms are crossed over my chest, more because I’m cold than pissed off with him. I drop my arms to my side.
“It’s a lovely surprise, but you still could’ve text me.”
“I’m sorry. I made a mistake, and now I feel like an idiot. I had a lot on too. I’ve been so busy.”
“You are an idiot. A huge one.” I playfully slap his chest, ignoring the statement about him being too busy.
We start walking again, and it’s not long until we reach my front door. I’m scared to go inside. I dread to think what awaits me on the other side.
“Are you going to invite me in?” he asks.
“Presumptuous much?”
“Coffee, chat, nothing more.” He gives me that smile that I find hard to refuse.
“One coffee, and a five-minute chat. I need my sleep.”
Soon I will have a Guinness Book of Records certificate hanging on my wall. This particular achievement was won for removing clothes in the fastest time. His hands are all over my body, and as I stand before him in just my underwear, I don’t feel one single ounce of nervousness. He stands looking at me in my mismatched underwear, and doesn’t seem to mind. Red Wonder Woman knickers and a black lacy bra are all I’m wearing.
“I like these,” he says, flicking my knicker elastic.
“If you’re lucky enough, you’ll get to see my Batman ones too.” My sassy reply earns me a sexy smirk.
“I guess I ought to play my cards right and make this night count.”
“I’ve got my eye on you, Reeves.” I return his smirk. “I’ll be keeping score.”
His fingers languidly run through my knotted hair. It’s not seen a comb since before the start of my shift, and is matted from work and the wintry night. He doesn’t seem to mind. He lowers his face towards mine, and I anticipate his kiss. I close my eyes, waiting for the magic to happen.
One.
Two.
Three.
It doesn’t come.
“Do you want this?” he whispers. I feel his hot breath against my lips, so I know his are a smidgen away from mine. It’s a subtle nod, but he sees it, and it’s enough for him to reward me for my approval.
I feel the need in him when he takes my lips with hunger, and a little more force than I’ve experienced before. His tongue slides in, and in this moment I feel every cell in my body zip around at one hundred miles per hour. I manage to take a breath when he releases me from this heaven.
“Hmm,” I murmur against his mouth, and mine salivates with the need to keep him close. I run my fingers down his chest, undoing the buttons of his black shirt as I go. I want to see what he’s hiding under the fabric, and with each button that comes away from its hole, I see smooth, hard pecs covered in nothing but ink. Not one single hair can be seen, and when my fingers make contact with the soft planes of his skin, he hums his appreciation of my touch. It ignites a fire deep within, urging me forward. My hands slide the material from his shoulders, pushing the shirt away from him. It falls to the floor, drifting like a feather until it hits the ground.
I’m brazen.
I want him.
I need this.
I’m not ashamed. I’m confident in my sexuality. I stroke him, grabbing a handful, and I feel his hardness in the palm of my hand. He’s excited, and it fuels my eagerness in return. I want to please him.
Questions run through my head, thoughts so unwelcome, but I use them to my advantage. If this is one night, make it one he’ll never forget. If I never see him again after this, at least you’ll have a good memory of the time you’ve spent together. If he vanishes without a trace after this night, the memories will be everlasting. And at least I will have got my rocks off with a really hot guy.
I chuckle at my thoughts.
“What’s funny?” he whispers.
“Nothing much.”
“Not words I want to hear while you have a handful of my junk.”
I realise how this looks. Not only do I laugh while I’m fondling him, but I say nothing much. I giggle, trying to hide my insecurities and put him at ease.
I don’t want to voice my thoughts, and I come up short with how to respond to his question. I let my actions smooth out the small amount of tension.
I loosen his belt and draw down the zip that confines him. I’m eager to feel the heat of his skin against my burning flesh. I push up my breasts into his chest and slowly place my arms around his neck, welcoming his lips against mine once more. Our tongues thrash in a sexy dance, tasting, exploring; it’s as if we’re both trying to figure out what each of us likes the most. Our fingertips touching skin, moving across each other’s body, our lips touching, and our hearts beating as one feels perfect. We make each other tick.
He lifts me up, my legs dangling, and my feet a few inches from the floor as he places me gently on my bed. His body covers mine, laying over me without pressing his full weight on me. He hovers, bracing himself on his arms, and gazes into my eyes. I see a wealth of need in those azures, but what I need to see is that this has the possibility to turn into more than just one night.
I don’t see what I want to see, but that’s okay. I can take, I can give, and in the morning, I’m cool if it’s just me, alone again. I feel the need to live in the moment, this moment, as I feel him about to take me.
Kisses, removal of underwear, more kisses. We’re naked, writhing in each other’s arms. The heat between my thighs runs like molten lava as his cock nudges against my hip. I feel the smoothness of the head as he lowers down my body, and his mouth finds the small, soft peaks of my breast. His hand grips tightly against the other as his tongue makes a meal of my nipple. He grips a breast in each hand and pulls them inward, and as I look down, I admire the look of my tits in his hands. There has never been a more perfect image.
His right hand runs down towards my hip, and when his fingers find my warm, needy, wet centre, my hips thrust upwards, almost bolting us both off the bed. He calms my desperate motion by pushing my hips gently towards the mattress, soothing the wild animal inside me.
I wrap my fingers around his hard shaft once more and begin to stroke him. “If you keep that up, this will be over before it’s begun.” His seductive tone makes me smile.
“So be it,” I say, but not really meaning it. It’s okay if he comes, but I’d much rather drag this out and get what I need too.
He quickly pulls away and moves down my body. No sooner than the last words are spoken, he has my thighs draped over his shoulder and he starts lapping at my core. The tip of his tongue is a delight against my clitoris, sucking, nibbling, and licking all over. His tongue goes rigid as he pays particular attention to the bundle of nerves that have the power to cause a massive explosion. The blast is imminent, and it only takes a couple more powerful strokes to have me calling out his name in the heat of passion.
I rarely come when a guy goes down on me.
This guy has got mad skills in the oral department.
My fingers release their vice like grip from the white cotton sheet covering my mattress. My fingers begin to relax as I come down from the high Connor induced. A euphoric wave of ecstasy swims through my veins. Wild excitement triggers a frenzy that’s hard to tame. I feel free.
The fog of intensity is lifted
when I feel him enter me slowly.
If the power of an orgasm wasn’t enough, the way he moves his hips as he fucks me slowly is a force to be reckoned with. I’m unable to control the noise coming from my mouth as the precision he demonstrates as a lover makes every cell in my body scream out for more.
“Don’t stop,” I beg before I have the wherewithal to halt the words.
His light grunting, mixed with the kisses against my neck, shoots a fanfare of pins and needles over every inch of my skin.
Friction. Delicious friction.
It’s an authoritative thing, demanding my all-encompassing attention, and, boy, oh boy, does he have it.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I didn’t realise I had my eyes closed. When I look at him, I see it, and I feel a small piece of me fall. It’s a minute piece, but it’s lost, taken by him, and I give it without restraint.
I run to the toilet, with urgency in my steps, before the deposit of his seed has the chance to run down my legs. I take my time as I clean myself up and wash my hands. I splash water on my face, cooling the overheated skin which is an after effect of our love making. I feel incredibly satisfied, and my whole body is screaming out for my comfortable bed. I’m exhausted.
When I re-enter my room, I stand still as Connor is fast asleep. I watch him sleeping, feeling like an intruder, a voyeur, much like I did the first night we spent together. His left arm is raised above his head, his right knee is bent, and he’s tangled deliciously in the white cotton sheet. It lays seductively across his waist, and I catch a glimpse of the trail of hair that leads from his tummy button to the promised land. His tanned, inked skin shines in the lamplight provided by the muted glow of my seashell lamp.
I guess he’s staying the night. My heart flutters at the mere thought of waking up beside him.
I pull out a nightshirt from the chest of drawers by the door. I rummage round for one of my newer night garments, ashamed of all the others I own. The last thing I want is for Connor to see me dressed in old tat.
“I thought you were keeping up the payments,” I scream in Lisa’s face. “What do we do now?” I start to sob.
My sister, the only person who is supposed to love me, actually laughs in my face in return. “This is all your fault, and I don’t care what you do. I’m leaving.” She picks up her bag and gets in his car. I watch as Lisa and that dumb fuck Jack Howard laugh at me as they drive away.
