Hooked

by Nicole Howard

  “You guys are amazing.” She gushed, adjusting herself on the teetering bar stool. “You’re the drummer, right?”

  “Yeah.” I choked on my water, cursing myself for struggling to focus on her face, instead of the cleavage spilling out of her shirt.

  “I couldn’t stop watching you back there.” Her fingers traced imaginary lines along my forearms, leaving me speechless. “Your arms are so strong.”

  “They are?” I gulped, staring down at my scrawny forearms. Lanky and beanpole were the only words that came to mind when I looked at myself in the mirror. The girl had to be three sheets to the wind if she thought I looked strong.

  “Oh, ya.” The blonde traced her bottom lip with her tongue before taking a sip from the straw sticking out of her drink. “I’m Holly by the way.”

  “Justin.” I extended my hand like the clueless fool that I was. Holly stared at my hand for a moment before leaning forward, her exposed chest pressing against my ‘strong’ arm.

  “Do you want to get out of here and show me what you can do with those strong arms?” Her lips grazed my ear as she spoke.

  “I have to pack up.” Facepalm.

  “We got it, man.” One of the guys piped up from the other side of Holly. “You two have fun.”

  “Uh, okay.” I brushed my sweaty palms along my jeans, trying to hide the uneasiness I was feeling. “We’re staying at a hotel just down the street.”

  “Nice and close.” Holly grinned, raising from the stool.

  “Uh-huh.” Like most guys, I had fantasized about losing my virginity since puberty, but with the probability of it happening being high, I was scared shitless. She had to think I was older than eighteen. Holly probably thought sex was a regular thing for me. How was I supposed to tell her that wasn’t the case without sounding like a pathetic loser?

  “Hey, Justin.” Cam called, walking toward me. “Good job tonight.” He slapped his hand into mine, transferring a foil package into my palm. I closed my fingers around the condom, panicking at the idea of using it.

  “Ready?” Holly prompted, pointing toward the door.

  “Guess so.”

  Turns out sex is just as natural as breathing. The nerves disappeared with her clothing and my instincts took over. Twenty- minutes later, Holly laid across my chest, breathing heavily. I wrapped an arm around her naked body, pulling her close. As amazing as the sex had been, having a woman in my arms was the best part of the night.

  “Well, that was awesome.” Holly pulled out of my arms abruptly, sliding off the mattress.

  “Where are you going?” I shimmied myself up the bed, confused by the sudden turn of events.

  “Oh, my ride is picking me up.” She collected her clothing from the floor and tossed them on the bed.

  “You can stay here.” I offered, ready to go back to where we had just been.

  “Uh, I have to get home. Work tomorrow.” Holly mumbled her excuses, balancing on one foot while pushing her other leg into her jeans.

  “Can I get your number?” I was grasping at straws. It wasn’t going as I had hoped.

  “Sure.” Her response came from underneath her shirt, as she pulled it over her head. “It’s 314-867-4512.”

  “Let me grab my phone.” I pleaded, crawling out of bed and fumbling with my pants on the floor. In the time it took me to pull it out of the pocket, Holly was at the door. “Give me a second.”

  “Justin?” Looking toward Holly, naked and holding my jeans in one hand, she took a photo with her phone. “Thank you.”

  “What are you doing?” I moved the pants over my exposed penis and shuffled toward the door.

  “Needed proof that we hooked up. My friends are going to die when they find out.” Holly smiled wide. “Night Justin.” In shock, I watched the door close, Holly disappearing behind it.

  ***

  My life for months has become a cycle. Perform, write, Maggie, repeat. She wasn’t a constant, so don’t get the wrong idea. She’s convenient, and she’s as interested in keeping things on the down-low as I was. Whether or not I liked it, life was changing and the changes in my life meant that getting laid required some effort. Maggie was effortless.

  “I’m going to grab a shower.” Maggie shouted from the bedroom, as I finished pouring two glasses of chocolate milk, Maggie’s drink of choice first thing in the morning.

  “Okay.” I hollered back, grabbing both glasses and carrying them back to my room. Maggie had left the bathroom door ajar, leaving just enough of a gap for me to watch her step into the open shower. I’d never appreciated the design of my master bath before, but the open shower without glass to steam up gave me the perfect view.

  If you think I’m being a creep for watching her shower, then you don’t know Maggie. Without a doubt, it would turn her on if she knew I was watching. Despite not wanting to abandon my post, the two glasses of milk were holding me back, so I left long enough to set them down on the table. The milk in the glasses splashed onto the counter as I set them down too hard, in my rush to get back to my watching.

  Maggie’s back was turned to me as I found my spot again. Taking myself in my hand, I stroked my length watching her squirt shampoo into her hand and lather it through her hair. Tempted to join her in the shower, I held back. The moment was one to savor. The shower would always be there and replaying the memories during desperate times would be worth holding back.

  When Maggie turned around to face me and rinse out her hair, her eyes were closed. Thank you shampoo Gods, for being the torturous, eye-burning devils that you are and prolonging my free show. When she opened them, I was caught red-handed.

  Maggie didn’t disappoint, merely smiling seductively from the shower. Her gaze dropped to my hand, watching me stroke back and forth. Maggie cupped her breast in one hand while dropping the other between her legs. It was by far, the hottest thing I had ever seen. My own personal memory for the spank bank. Maggie was filling it quickly.

  Her head dropped back. I knew she was close. While watching her orgasm on her hand would be my every fantasy, I owned that orgasm and I was going to feel it. Letting go of myself, I rushed into the bathroom and pulled her out of the shower, wasting no time in bending her over the flat space between the double vanity. Using one hand I pushed down on her back, forcing her ass against my hard-on. With the other, I opened the drawer and searched for a condom.

  Within seconds I was sheathed and sinking into her, my eyes holding hers in the mirror. Her cheeks reddened, her breathing quickened, her eyes widened with each thrust as I used both of my hands to grab her hips and deepen my penetration.

  “Keep your eyes open.” I demanded as they started to flutter. I wanted to watch every second of her falling apart and I wanted her to see what she did to me.

  “Justin!” Her back arched as she edged closer, her hands reaching for anything to anchor herself as I quickened the pace.

  “I’ve got you.” And I did, holding her weight as she fell apart before emptying myself into her and collapsing my weight on her, pinning her to the cold granite.

  “Can we just stay here?” She asked, her body rising and falling heavily beneath me. “I don’t think I can walk.”

  “We can stay here.” I agreed, despite the ache in my thighs from the position I had held to meet the height of her body over the counter. “Or I can carry you to the bed until your legs work again.”

  “Yeah, that.” She sighed, contented. Lifting myself off her I shook off my muscle exhaustion and lifted her into my arms. “I think it’s nap time.” Maggie rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes, asleep before I even laid her down in the bed. So much for the chocolate milk. It would be warm before either of us were ready to move again.

  ***

  “What’s the story behind these?” Maggie ran a finger along my bicep, tracing the tattoos. “Do they mean anything? Or is that too personal?”

  “No, not personal at all. There’s no real story. Just ink.” That was the truth. They didn’t mean anyth
ing other than adding a layer to my image.

  Go big or go home was my motto when I walked through the doors of the tattoo parlor a guitarist recommended. The tattooist had watched one of the bands I play with in one of the rundown clubs where we covered rock songs. He was willing to tattoo my entire forearm for two hundred. I probably should have been concerned about the quality of tattoo I’d end up with for that kind of money, but I didn’t care.

  My goal in life was to be a drummer, so it only made sense to invest in my body to create an image so far away from the geeky, scrawny, pimple-covered, four-eyed, teenager I left behind. My skin had cleared up, contacts replaced the glasses and I was starting to put on weight, but it wasn’t enough. I was still too preppy. I didn’t fit with the bands I played with. I didn’t fit the scene and I was all in. So, when the needle pressed against my skin, and the vibration imprinted vivid colored ink and designs on my naked skin, I absorbed it all. Three sessions and twelve hours later, my first tattoo, bright blues, greens, and reds, popping through shaded designs covered my forearm. Birds, fire, drumsticks, dice, and clocks that somehow all worked together. It was perfect and I was hooked.

  Before I ever met Tim, both my arms were covered, all done by the artist who charged me next to nothing every time I walked through the door. Never expecting anything more than allowing me to be his canvas. Every time, giving me designs that worked without expectation.

  When Hazed hit it big and started pulling in real money, I invested in him. Giving him the money he needed to start his own parlor, paying him back for the blood, sweat, and tears he had poured on my body and the freedom he gave me to break free from who I had been.

  Chapter 5

  Trolling

  Maggie

  My body reacted the minute I boarded the plane, conditioned to the awareness that the flight would bring me closer to an orgasm, or five. The airplane equaled Ally’s. Ally’s equaled Hazed. Hazed equaled Justin, and Justin, well that man equaled sexual euphoria, and I was too damned hooked to put an end to an arrangement that was becoming too comfortable and predictable. A dangerous situation for a woman who wanted nothing to do with comfortable and predictable where men were concerned.

  A certain long-haired, tattooed rocker was the motivation behind why I was flying to the baby reveal a day early. He was the reason behind the list of excuses for why I couldn’t catch the same flight as Sarah the next day. When arriving at Ally’s, I kept my cool, despite the craving to find Justin and put an end to the building excitement that was coursing through my body. I abstained, reminding myself that I was a friend first, prioritizing time with Ally and Kenzie. I talked to Tim. I conversed with Ian. I uttered a word or two to Justin, our norm when it came to spending time in front of other people. We played a game the both of us enjoyed a little too much. I had the patience of a Saint.

  Then bedtime arrived and I sat on the edge of the bed, watching the door, waiting for Justin to come and get me. Just like he did the last time we were both here. I waited. For an hour! But he never came. The disappointment left me wide awake, staring at the ceiling, overwhelmed with the realization that somewhere along the line I had turned into the type of girl I promised myself I wouldn’t become. A woman who depends on a man. One that allowed herself to be hurt by someone else’s choices. I spent the night trying to talk myself off the damn ledge, focused on tucking my emotions back where they belonged. Refocus my mind back to where it needed to be.

  By the time morning came, I was left dragging my tired ass out of bed and down the stairs to the welcoming smell of coffee. The kitchen was filled with people, awake and animated when all I wanted was to turn back the clock and climb back in bed.

  “Coffee?” Justin asked, handing me a mug filled to the brim with black coffee, just the way I drank it. Coincidentally, also the way he does too.

  “I can get my own!” I snarked, wanting nothing to do with the jackass.

  “Oh, Kay.” He raised his hands in surrender, keeping the full mug level, not spilling a drop.

  Flustered and furious, I marched to the coffee pot only to find it empty. Rubbing my tired eyes, I searched the counter looking for fresh coffee grinds to brew another pot, coming up blank.

  “Al, where do you keep the coffee?” I failed to fend off a yawn while removing the coffee carafe from the machine, I took it to the sink to rinse and refill with water.

  “Sorry Maggie, we finished off the bag. I forgot to get more when I ordered groceries this week. Tim just put in an order, so we’ll have more in a couple of hours.”

  “Great.” I sighed, disappointed that on top of being exhausted, I was also going without coffee, regretting that I hadn’t accepted the mug from Justin. I couldn’t ask for it now, not after I had turned him down. The entire weekend was turning into a shit show. I should have flown in with Sarah, at least then I wouldn’t have spent the night sulking, I would have a full night of rest and I would be sipping a coffee instead of wanting to throw the pot across the room.

  “You can have this one.” Justin offered again, a pleased smirk on his face.

  “Like I would want anything you had your hands on. God only knows who you’ve been touching.” My comment was a little harsh, but I couldn’t help it. My caffeine and sleep-deprived brain didn’t have what it took to be a decent human.

  “Whatever, Maggie.” Justin’s eyes tightened as he raised the mug to his lips and gulped back half the mug of hot liquid without so much as wincing.

  “Uh…” Ally tugged on my arm, pulling me away from Justin in her attempt to diffuse the situation. “Could you give me a hand, by bringing up the decorations from the basement? Ian can help you while I run out and grab you a coffee from the café down the street before you rip off more heads.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” I argued, filled with guilt that my attitude was affecting Ally. My frustration was caused more by Justin than the coffee. In fact, if he hadn’t been in the kitchen, I probably would have been a more reasonable person.

  “It’s no problem. Tim, can you keep an eye on Kenz? I’ll be back in a few minutes.” I understood why she was going instead of one of the guys. She could get in and out quickly, whereas they stood a chance of being recognized and suddenly a ten-minute coffee run becomes an hour affair resulting in cold coffee.

  “Justin, can you help Maggie with the decorations? I want to surprise Sarah at the airport, and I don’t want to be late.”

  Shit. “I can do it by myself.” I stated, heading for the stairs. I sent Justin a death glare, daring him to follow me. Given my mood, he would be risking death or maiming by taking a single step down those stairs.

  Wasting no time, I took the stairs by two, hitting the bottom with a thump. I was picking up a box from the pile when I heard the distinct sound of someone coming down. I lifted the box anyway, intent on ignoring Justin and taking the boxes upstairs, regardless of whether he planned on helping or not.

  “What is your problem?” Justin’s hand gripped my arm, halting my movement.

  “I don’t have a problem.” I snapped, trying to tug my arm out of his grasp while balancing the box.

  “Yes, you do. And it’s not just a cup of fucking coffee.” His grip stayed firm and the box crashed to the ground. Plates, cups, tablecloths, and baby paraphernalia emptied onto the carpet.

  “Jesus, Justin. Just let me do this.” I dropped to the floor, my eyes burning with tears of frustration and exhaustion. “By myself.”

  Justin took the box and dropped to his knees, scooping everything up and piling it back into the box before I could get my hands on a single thing. “Why don’t you go upstairs and find a way to get rid of the cranky person you’ve decided to be? I’ll do this.”

  While I wanted to be angry with him for calling me out, I couldn’t. He was right. I was leaning a bit too far on the bitchy side. The weekend was about Ally. Justin owed me nothing. My sour mood was my own doing. I made an assumption I shouldn’t have made and expected something I shouldn’t have expected.
It was time to drop the self-pity party. Pronto.

  “Maybe I should.” I relented, standing and rubbing my eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Did you just thank me?” Justin’s mouth dropped open, emphasizing his shock.

  “I did.” I laughed, unable to keep it in.

  “Accepted.” His wide smile was genuine. “Do you think I could fuck the crankiness out of you?”

  My body was on board before my brain had time to process the question, nodding on autopilot. Justin kicked the box aside with his foot, took my hand and pulled me into Ian’s room.

  “Ian’s not here. No one will look in here.” He explained shutting the door. Pushing him against the door I practically climbed his body, begging for the release a quickie would bring. Justin didn’t disappoint, bending and positioning my body, but never once moving us away from our spot against the door. I clung to him, coming down from the high, the door to hold our weight. My breathing hadn’t evened out before we heard the distinct sound of feet on the basement stairs. It was probably Ally, looking for us considering not a single box had made it up the stairs and I had bailed on the coffee. Justin reacted fast, pulling me into Ian’s closet.

  I ducked beneath the hangers, struggling to find a comfortable position before stilling myself against Justin’s warm body. The closet was dark, much to my disappointment, since I liked his hair after sex. My tugging, pulling, and playing always left it a ruffled mess that was sexy as hell. Second only to after a concert when it was dripping with sweat and water. Some day, I would find a way to get my hands on that hair. Just once.

  My fantasy was interrupted when the door to Ian’s room opened and the sound of sobbing filled the room. It took me a minute to realize Sarah was the one crying. I tightened my grip on Justin, both of us aware that we had ended up in a place we shouldn’t be and there was no way out until Sarah was ready to leave.

  “Sare, baby, it’s okay. Why are you crying?” Ian’s voice, while soft and kind, seemed to boom through the closet. I tucked in closer to Justin, trying to take up as little space as possible.