by J. J. Sorel
I giggled. “Now you’ve got me intrigued. I look forward to hearing all about it.”
“That’s a yes then?” he asked, cocking his head.
I nodded slowly.
He tapped something on his phone, and mine pinged.
“I wonder who that’s from.” I grinned.
A knock came at the door. Seeing Candy standing there snapped me out of my mesmerized state. “Now, what have you two been up to?” Her high-pitched voice made me wince. A stunned look was the best I could offer, which, I imagined, confirmed her suspicions. Reverting to being Mr. Cool and Inscrutable, Bronson left the room without uttering a word.
After mumbling something, I left her and headed for the powder room, where I slumped onto the fluffy chair and let my racing mind spill its contents in the comfort of privacy.
My little moment of reflection, however, was interrupted when the door swung open. Therefore, I sighed with relief upon discovering that it was Cassie.
“Hey, there you are,” she said with a puzzled frown. “Shit, Ava, you’ve got mascara down your cheek, and your hair’s a mess. Have you been getting hot and steamy?” Her wicked smile made me chuckle.
Making my way to the mirror, I gasped at the wreckage before me. Bronson had forgotten to mention that I looked like I’d been swept away in a tornado.
“Shit. I look terrible.” I took my brush from my bag and sat down again. My thick, long hair demanded patience.
“You’ve been with Bronson,” Cassie said at last. “That’s why Justin was acting like such a dick.”
An image of my ex’s deranged expression flashed before me. “Oh fuck, what have I done?” I buried my head in my hands.
“You did what any self-respecting, hot-blooded woman would have done.” She giggled. Her infectious lightness worked wonders, making me laugh too, despite my giggles largely driven by nerves.
“What was it like? Did you go all the way?”
“By all the way, you mean did he fuck me?” I asked, continuing to rip into my hair. It was hard to remain patient and calm when talking about Bronson.
“Tell me, is he as sexy underneath those clothes as he is dressed?”
A slow, cheeky smile formed on my lips as I relived Justin’s shock when he’d seen how well-endowed Bronson was. “Better, I think.”
“It was yummy, then?”
“We didn’t get that far. No condom.”
“Oh… damn. So, you ended up hot and bothered.”
“Not me so much.” A slow smile grew.
“Did he go down on you?”
I nodded slowly.
“Nice.”
“Better than nice,” I said.
She let out a little scream and jumped up and down. “At my engagement party. How sexy is that? I love it.”
“It’s so damn complicated, though,” I argued. “Bronson insists that Justin planted drugs on him that sent him to prison. Do you think that’s true?”
“Justin uses cocaine, Ava. Does Bronson?”
“No. Or at least, I don’t think so.”
“But then, Bronson’s got that bad-boy vibe, whereas Justin’s more the boy-next-door type,” said Cassie.
“Justin’s not, though.” I sighed deeply. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“Hey, babe, don’t worry. Just hang out with Bronson for a while. Have some seriously hot, dirty sex, and then find a nice boy and marry him.”
I laughed at her matter-of-fact commentary.
“Come on, let’s get drunk,” she said.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I said, recalling the message on my phone.
After Cassie left, I pulled out my cell and read Bronson’s text. “You tasted exquisite. I look forward to the main course.”
As a sharp, hot ache pulsated deep in my core, I closed my eyes, and a large smile claimed my face.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BRONSON
One useful habit I had picked up in prison was to keep a journal. If anything, it helped me get my head together. Flicking through pages that contained drawings and scribblings, I landed on my “mission” page.
It read: 1. Find dirt on Justin. 2. Seduce his girlfriend. 3. Fuck her. 4. Receive an exoneration from my sentence. 5. Sue the pants off Justin. 6. Set up my own building firm. 7. Find my real parents.
So far, I’d only managed to fulfill points 1 and 2.
And that was where my scheme had hit a slight snag.
Aside from the satisfaction of seeing Justin fume after catching me with my dick out, my spirit sat somewhere between deflation and elation. In other words, I was conflicted.
I’d fucked girls that Justin had dated before, but Ava was something else.
She was in a league of her own.
I could understand why Justin was doing everything to win her back. He definitely didn’t deserve her, though. She was way too good for him.
In the spate of twenty-four hours, Ava had become more than a prize. She’d become something almost unattainable, only because I, too, didn’t deserve her. At least, that was what my jaded spirit told me.
My mission had become infected by emotion, in that I couldn’t get Ava out of my head or body.
My fingers tingled at the thought of those curves.
I still salivated at how she’d tasted, and I’d been walking around with a hard-on all week just thinking of her.
No woman had ever possessed me that way before.
It wasn’t just her considerable physical beauty but everything about her that I craved.
Each time I looked at her, I lost myself in her beauty. My eyes were addicted. And whenever she spoke, I could have kept listening all night. Not only did I like the things that exited that smart mouth but also the caressing tone of her voice.
I decided not to call Ava.
It wasn’t from a lack of desire, because I’d begun to tap on her number many times. Then the thought of using Ava for my own twisted ends stopped me from calling her. But over and above everything, it was that Ava thought I was a criminal.
I had to clear my name first.
Ava had to see me for who I really was and not some convicted drug dealer.
I walked into a bar close to my childhood home, where my uncle waited for me, sitting at the bar.
“Hey, James. Sorry I’m late,” I said, pulling up a stool.
“Beer?” he asked.
“Yeah. Sure.”
Picking up the bottle the barman had set down, I took a thirsty gulp. Wiping my lips, I said, “That feels better. Okay, then, let’s get down to business.”
“Before that”—he squared his shoulders—“I need to tell you something.”
Taking a sip of beer, I looked up at him.
“Something happened after you left the party the other night. I’m still trying to get over it.” He gulped down his bourbon. “It’s really rocked me. Although it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.”
“What’s that?”
“I found Justin all over Candy.”
I stared down at my hands for a moment. “Have you spoken to Candy about it?”
“She insists Justin came on to her.”
“That’s plausible. It wouldn’t be the first time that Justin’s forced himself on a woman.”
“Are you serious?” My uncle studied me for a moment. “I know that you’ve got issues with him.”
“I’m serious, all right.” I pulled a mock smile. “As you already know, I’m convinced Justin stashed the coke in my backpack. I had him followed and obtained some snaps of him powdering his nose while cozying up with Candy. She looked pretty happy.”
My uncle stared blankly at me.
“Look, um, I’m sorry. I should’ve said something.”
He patted my arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m the stupid one. I should have known marrying an ex-stripper wouldn’t turn out nice.”
The question on my lips never made it out, even though I was dying to ask it.
James smiled grimly. “Why did I? I hear you
ask.”
I nodded slowly.
“I suppose, like most middle-aged men frightened of that downward slope, I needed something to make me feel young. But to be honest” —he sipped his beer solemnly— “It was one big fucking mistake. And now it will cost me for sure.”
“You’re divorcing her?”
“You bet. I don’t know where’s she’s been. I’ve even asked her to get a blood test.”
“Ah… That’s not good. That’s one thing a marriage should offer, loyalty and condom-free sex.”
He sniffed. “That’s right. Anyway, I wanted to share that with you, because I know about your struggles with Justin. And to be honest, I’m pretty fucking pissed off with him.”
“That’s understandable,” I replied.
“He’s the dirty one in this game. Candy was always going to slink off with someone younger. That was predictable. But Justin’s part in this just makes me sick. I’ve told your mom that I don’t want anything to do with him. Marcus has gone off him, too. And they were pretty thick, as you know.”
I nodded sympathetically. At least I had my uncle on my side.
He gulped down his drink and beckoned to the bartender for another. “All right, to business. Show me what you’ve got.”
I took a folder from my backpack and placed it on the bar. “That’s a quick drawing of the village. And over the page, you’ll see the individual designs. I’ve created seven prototypes.”
James spent a few moments flipping from one page to another. I sat nervously by. I’d never been confident about my sketching skills. My mom was the only one who had seen a few drawings here and there, not just images of houses and designs, but portraits of women and landscapes. If anything, sketching had kept me sane in prison.
He looked up at me, shaking his head. “Bronson, these are incredible drawings. By hand too.”
“Yeah, well. I prefer the old-fashioned approach to drafting. Harry, my boss, thinks I should go digital. And I probably will for some of his jobs. Big boxy apartments, that type of thing.” I scratched my neck.
“They’re brilliantly rendered. I’m taken aback. I didn’t realize. I mean Alice mentioned you were creative, but wow. I hope you get back to that degree you started.”
“I’m working seven days a week at the moment. I don’t really have a lot of time. But with this project, who knows. That’s if you’re interested.”
“I am. I love the village idea. It almost looks like an old English setting.”
“That’s where I got my ideas from. A German village, actually. I studied it online. Hopefully one day I can visit it.”
“You will, I’m sure. Bronson, I get this feeling you’re going to amount to something. These are great designs.”
“That makes me feel positive. I wasn’t sure what you’d think. You’re the first person to see them.”
“These are truly inspiring. Have you got any idea on where?”
“I have. There are three places just outside the city. Old industrial wastelands that are being offered for a song.”
“What about chemical waste?” he asked.
“There are these revitalization grants, where they cover the cleanup costs in return for a project like this one.”
“Great. I’m excited. Something for me to do. And it looks like a money spinner.”
I raised a brow. “That’s the plan, Uncle.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AVA
Turning the key tentatively, I unlocked the door. When Aggie placed a key in my hand to her apartment, I was naturally taken aback, considering how private she was. I still hadn’t made it up those stairs to the private rooms, though. Not for lack of curiosity. Each time I asked about the rooms above, she either changed the subject or responded vaguely.
Predictably, I found her sitting on the balcony. I coughed on my approach to avoid startling her. Aggie turned and nodded. Her hair was in a meticulous bun, as always, and she wore a floral shirt over her regular pink bell-bottoms.
She studied me closely. And summoning up weak acting skills, I painted on a bright smile, which was a battle, given that my emotions were anything but sunny.
“What’s happened to that man who made your cheeks all rosy?”
Was I that transparent? I wondered.
Aggie hadn’t heard of my encounter with Bronson at Cassie’s engagement party, although it was not for lack of trying. She’d even intuited I’d gone somewhere forbidden from the vibe I apparently gave out.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell her, though. How could one tell an old woman, albeit a sexually liberated one, that a virtual stranger nearly made me swallow my tongue from ecstasy after devouring me within an inch of sanity?
A week had passed since that steamy encounter. And the fact that I hadn’t heard from Bronson had made for a restless and difficult time.
“Um… there’s no man, Aggie.”
“Bullshit. There’s always a man.” Mischief leapt from her eyes. Her voice softened. “You’re not yourself, Ava. And you would have looked so beautiful in that dress. I knew you’d snare him.”
“Snare who, Aggie?”
“I’ll ask the questions, Ava. That’s why I pay you.”
Her snappy tone made me flinch. “A martini?”
She nodded and pointed. “I insist you have one. You need it. I can see that.”
I couldn’t argue with her on that front. In any case, I’d grown fond of my newly acquired one-martini-a-day habit. Aggie had even tried to ply me with more, but given the tipsy state I left in each day, I wished to avoid stumbling home.
As I thought about drunkenness, I summoned up unpleasant memories of Justin after he’d turned up late at my place the previous night, clutching a bunch of flowers. He’d made such a noisy fuss on the street below, I’d had no other choice but to let him in. With the benefit of hindsight, I should have left him there to blend in with the other raucous misfits doing drug deals. If there was one little street where one could yell their lungs off without causing a stir, it was my street.
From the moment he’d stumbled in, I regretted opening the door. Slurring his words, Justin kept going on about how small his penis was. It was pathetic in many ways, especially after I had to repeatedly insist that I hadn’t broken off our relationship due to the size of his penis. There was more to life than a man’s penis, I thought. Apart from breeding, of course, in which case size played no part. And the fact that Justin kept at me about it confirmed my views of him being a shallow, self-centered boor.
He fell onto the couch. Then, holding his head, Justin went on and on about how evil Bronson was.
I said, “Look, Justin, I need to sleep. You have to leave now.” I pointed to the door.
Downcast he rose and lumbered to the door. He turned and stared at me. “There’s no hope for us?”
I shook my head.
“He’s no good for you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I said.
As I watched him disappear down the stairs, I shook my head in disbelief over how stupid we both were— me for letting him in and Justin thinking the size of his dick had caused our breakup.
I placed Aggie’s martini by her side, after which I sat down and took a sip of the fiery liquid, hoping it would ease the agitation caused by a restless night.
“You haven’t slept well. And it’s not due to pleasure, either.”
“No.” I sighed.
“He’s kissed you, hasn’t he?”
I nodded slowly. My mouth turned down. I had to gulp back a lump. Bronson had gotten so deep under my skin that it seemed as though he’d taken total possession of me.
Aggie scrutinized me for a moment. “I can see he’s affected you, dear girl.”
I sipped my martini a little faster than usual. “He was supposed to ask me out on a date but hasn’t called.”
“How long’s it been?”
“A week,” I replied.
“And tell me, did you both…?” She tapped her fingers together
to signify copulation.
I studied her for signs of amusement. Instead, I was met with the type of sympathy a mother might radiate.
“Kind of,” I said, shifting in my seat.
“By kind of, you mean he didn’t go all the way. But he touched you?”
I nodded.
“Cunnilingus?”
My mouth turned up in an embarrassed half grin. I nodded.
“Then you want to keep him. Those type of men are rare. Ashley never went anywhere near there. He was too nice and clean for that kind of sauciness.”
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“They always are, darling. The exciting ones always are.”
“Bronson’s just gotten out of prison.”
“A strong name. I bet he’s a strong man.”
“He is. But he was locked up in prison, Aggie.”
“But he didn’t murder anyone. It was not for violence,” she argued.
I’d discussed him with her before, and knowing her view on drugs, I didn’t feel like opening up that discourse. “He insists he’s innocent.”
“Do you believe him?”
I nodded slowly. “I do. Only, he promised to call, and he hasn’t.”
“Then go and claim him. Who says that it’s the man’s job to get down on his knees? Isn’t that why women burned their bras in the sixties?”
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a feminist, Aggie.” I smiled.
“I’m no such thing,” she snapped. “Men are physically stronger, and women are mentally stronger. It’s not a battle of the sexes. It’s simple. We’re both equally capable and incapable.” She snorted. “All that breast-beating, nothing but nonsense.”
“But equal pay, the vote…” I argued.
She sighed. “I liked being a kept woman. I didn’t do one day of work in my life. So what does that make me?”
“You came from another time. These days, women’s voices need to be heard. We are part of the workforce. And at least we’re finally being listened to in matters of abuse.”
Her brows drew in slightly. “I’ll own my wealthy, idle lifestyle guilt-free, thank you. That’s why I married Ashley and gave up the only man I’d ever loved.” A cigarette trembled in her hand.
