Текст книги "About Last Night..."
Автор книги: Belle Aurora
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Chapter Ten
Mia
The thought of Quinn in a bathtub had made me hot. I was jealous of a rubber ducky. Clearly, I was losing my mind.
I had awoken at the crack of dawn, and normally, this would’ve put me in a bad mood, but I felt as though it was a sign. I was getting slack with my exercise routine. This was the perfect opportunity to make up for it. I dressed quickly in running tights and a loose tank. I slipped my shoes on, grabbed my MP3 player and phone, and then I was off.
Although I hadn’t ever lived in the suburb I was currently lived in, I knew my city well. I grew up here. And with my mom being a working single mother, I learned to get around on public transport.
I boarded a bus just off my block, paid the five dollars for a day pass, and went on my way. When I arrived at my destination, I walked off the bus, looked out into the distance, and smiled.
The beach.
I hadn’t been to the beach in over five years. It was my favorite place to go to relax, and it was only now that I felt welcomed. When you were a larger woman, the beach was not a very forgiving place. You felt the eyes of strangers aimed at you. You didn’t feel as if you belonged. Of course, this was likely all part of your imagination, but it still didn’t feel good.
The truth was I didn’t hate my body anymore. Sure, I wasn’t exactly thin, and I still had curves, but I was comfortable in my body.
Walking down the trail, I found myself on the sand and mentally prepped myself for a hard workout. I ran on the sand till my heart raced then I stopped, jogging in place for a minute. I did this again and again, working at intervals till my legs felt like jelly and I wanted to puke. There was no in-between with a workout like this. It was go hard or go home. And so I went hard.
As I near stumbled back up the trail, I drank from a water fountain then sat at a bench, still panting. I sat until my heart rate decreased and thought of Quinn. And as though he heard my thoughts, my phone pinged.
Quinn: Of course I have a rubber ducky. Don’t tell me you don’t. That could be a deal breaker for me.
I lifted my face and huffed a laugh to the sky.
Me: I don’t have a rubber ducky. I know. I’m ashamed. Does an anti-slip mat with duckies on it count?
His reply was immediate and I almost heard him scoff.
Quinn: No, it doesn’t count! That’s okay. I’ll just have to get you one.
I smiled hard like the fool I was.
Me: You don’t have to do that, Quinn.
I sat back on the bench and closed my eyes, trying in vain to push aside the warm feeling swirling inside my chest, partially choking me. My phone chimed.
Quinn: Yes, I do. x
Shit. It was nine days till Sunday. I was still counting down.
I had an appointment with a hooker, and I couldn’t wait.
I made it home from the beach in time to catch Bill and Terry walking out of their apartment. As soon as they spotted me, they both beamed.
Terry got to me first, kissing my cheek. “Mia honey, we were just talking about you! We wanted to invite you over tonight for dinner, but neither of us have your number.”
Bill took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “And before you decline, Terry’s cooking his famous drunken duck a l’orange. And it’s amazing.”
Terry added in a singsong voice, “With crème brûlée for dessert.”
Oh, damn. I freaking loved crème brûlée. I was not about to say no to that menu. I’d be crazy to! I smiled. “Anything you want me to bring?”
Terry looked downright horrified at the idea and slapped my arm to let me know. “No! You’re our guest, Mia.”
“I’ll be there. What time?”
Terry had already dragged Bill down the hall. He called out, “Eight p.m., sharp,” with a backwards wave. Bill smiled and shrugged. I supposed he was used to this.
I shook my head at the hurricane that was Terry, then unlocked my apartment, dropped my things on my bed, and showered. I sang my little heart out in that shower with my own special Spice Girls mash-up, still partly mad at Ginger for leaving the group. When I sang so hard that I was certain I should’ve been the sixth member of the band, I turned off the water and dried myself lazily, dropping my towel to the floor.
My bedroom window was open, so I made a nudie run to the blinds and closed them before lying naked on my bed in my own form of meditation. There was something empowering about being stripped bare. In all my flawed glory, I was comfortable. And that made me happy. Happy was all I ever wanted to be, and for the first time ever, I really was.
The blue light on my cell was blinking. I lifted it with a frown to find three new messages. I read them wide-eyed and confused.
Quinn: Pink, blue, or yellow?
Quinn: …for the rubber duck, that is.
Quinn: Never mind, I got ‘em all. I don’t like the idea of you just having one. They need company.
Laughter burst out of me, shaking my entire body. My jiggly bits jiggled, and that didn’t bother me a bit.
Me: Good call. I’ve heard stories of depressed rubber ducks drowning themselves in their manic state. If only those ducks had a duck homie to shoot the breeze with. Tragic.
Before I even managed to put my phone down, it chimed in my hand.
Quinn: Oh, you make fun now, but I bet my duck you’ll love ‘em.
My fingers typed the exact thing I was thinking.
Me: Quack.
I hadn’t expecting the response I got.
Quinn: So…can I call you?
I sat up with a jolt. I blinked down at the message then swallowed hard. No. I wasn’t ready for this. My fingers typed slowly, carefully. I clicked send and closed my eyes.
Me: …okay.
The phone started to ring almost instantly, and I panicked. I stared down at it as it rang, and let it ring till it rang out.
Shit.
Quinn: Okay, I get it. You said I could call. You didn’t say you’d answer. Clever little kitten.
My heart was racing, my skin had flushed, and I had to get over this. I was going to lose my virginity to this man, and I couldn’t even talk to him? Lord, I was pathetic.
Me: If you call again, I’ll answer. Scout’s honor.
My phone rang once more; this time I answered right away. My voice sounded soft. Too soft. “Hello?”
I heard a smile through that deep, manly voice. “Maya?”
My eyes closed of their own accord and I forced my voice louder. “Hi, Quinn.”
He chuckled low and rough, and it felt like a caress all over my body. “Hi, yourself. Why didn’t you answer your phone? You won’t let me see you before our appointment, so the least you could do is talk to me.”
A blush rose in my cheeks. He wasn’t scalding me. I knew he was only teasing, but I still felt like a fifteen-year-old girl talking to the high school quarterback. I slapped my forehead and groaned. “Ugh, I know. I’m sorry. I get weird around men. I panicked.”
The amused lilt in his voice disappeared and was replaced with a tinge of concern. “Tell me about that. Did you have a bad experience with a man? Did someone hurt you?”
His voice was so gentle and full of care that I found myself smiling softly. “No, nothing like that. It’s sort of something that’s always happened with me. Men would try to talk to me, and mid-conversation, I’d walk away, because I couldn’t respond. It’s sort of like having a major brain-fart.”
He laughed then, and I smiled hard. He uttered, “I can understand that. I’ve had a brain-fart a time or two before.” He paused a moment then asked cautiously, “How do you feel talking to me?”
It was my turn to pause. I lifted my head in thought before responding through a sigh, “This is probably going to sound weird, and I apologize in advance for that, but I kind of feel like I’m talking to a friend.”
His reply was sincere. “We are friends. At least, I’d like to be friends. You got room for one more?”
Smiling so hard my cheeks felt like they were on the verge of splitting, I answered gently, “Always got room for another friend.”
His voice had softened. “Me too, Maya. Me too.” Then his voice turned husky. “Can you do something for me, Maya?”
I blinked at the sudden change of character, and so I stuttered, “Uh, sh-sh-sure.”
Amusement lined his voice. “Quack for me, baby.”
Chapter Eleven
Quinn
Harry threw the football and, distracted as I was, it flew by my head and into the sand behind me.
Every now and again, Harry and I would workout on the beach in front of my apartment block. Being a Saturday, he didn’t have work and it was perfect weather for a light game of catch. Harry was always complaining that being cooped up in the office all day, he didn’t have the energy to workout. He wasn’t loving the few pounds he’d put on, so I was helping him get back in shape. And by helping, I meant I pushed him hard, then pushed even harder. I pushed and pushed till he wanted to beat me to a bloody pulp.
What could I say? I was a good friend.
I ran for the ball, caught it, and then threw long. Harry grabbed it then passed it back. I managed to catch it that time.
Silence hadn’t always bothered me, but recently, I found myself craving conversation rather than being lost in my thoughts. I needed to fill the hush with something quickly before my mind started doing its thing. “When’s the last time you got laid, Old Mother Hubbard?”
A personal question, I know, but Harry could handle it. We were close, and both having been in the escort business, we had the impression that sex was natural and fun, as long as both parties consented.
In total Harry fashion, he smirked. “Last night. Why? You know someone?”
Hurling the ball, I huffed out a laugh. “Someone who’d put up with your sulking ass? No. I’d never punish a girl like that. Not one I liked anyways.”
He scowled and caught the ball then threw it back. Hard. “Asshole.”
I laughed, shaking off the pain in my hands from catching the quick ball. “I guess I wanted to make sure your beef and bean burrito isn’t shriveling up like a prune.”
Harry pointed at me while staring me down. “My beef and bean burrito is still tasty as fuck, thank you very much.”
I pitched the ball, muttering, “I’ll have to take your word for it, bro.”
Harry looked as though he wanted to say something, and never being one to beat around the bush, he asked a nonchalant, “So, you cancel things with that client?”
I stood, panting a moment, then shook my head, throwing the ball. “Nope.”
He caught the ball and held it between the side of his body and the crook of his elbow. “You’re asking for trouble, dude.”
Harry never irritated me, but I was irritated right then. “Why? Because you had a bad experience? Doesn’t mean it’ll happen to me.”
He eyed me good. “And if it does?”
Waves crashing on the shore sounded in the background, a normally soothing sound. It wasn’t soothing me today. My jaw ticked. “Then I’ll take care of it.”
Harry shook his head. “I’m just looking out for you. Don’t want you to make the same mistake I did.”
Nope. This conversation was over. “You gonna throw the ball or what?”
He muttered, “Yeah, yeah. All right,” then tossed the ball.
The silence was awkward. I hated that, especially with Harry. I had to fill the breach. “How’s your sister settling?”
His lip twitched. “She’s made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t need my help with anything. Says she’s an adult and lived without help for almost five years. In other words, she’s a total brat.”
I chuckled and lobbed the ball. “All the better for you then.”
His face turned somber. “I worry about her. I don’t like her being on her own. Not when she’s got Mom and me.” He held the ball a moment. “You know, she always was this fragile thing. She needed me and I helped her where I could. She didn’t have a lot of friends. She’d get freaked out around guys, and now that she’s finally come out of that shell, I don’t know. I sort of miss being needed.”
I caught the ball and uttered, “She knows you’re there. She’ll come to you when she needs help. Let the little bird fly.” Then I thought about cute, chubby Minnie and added hastily, “But not too far.”
Harry grinned and I returned it, knowing he’d been thinking the very same thing.
I said goodbye to Harry around one p.m. He told me to keep Monday night free. He was hosting a poker night, which almost always turned into go-fish night. I told him I’d be there.
Running sounded like a good idea. I didn’t have much time before that afternoon’s client, but had so much energy that if I didn’t burn the excess, I was likely to fuck my client through the floor. Not that I thought she would mind.
I ran from dock to dock, then turned around and went home. I was sweaty, hot, and bothered, but I was hoping my night with Belinda would be somewhat better than my night with Gina. In other words, I was hoping my cock would cooperate and actually come to the party. I was sure I would. Belinda was gorgeous and shy as a mouse.
It was always the shy ones you had to look out for. Once you got past the shyness, they were usually wild in the sack, as in nail-marks-and-blood-streaks-down-the-back wild.
On my way into the building, I heard a shaky, fragile voice call out, “M– Matthew! Oh, M-Matthew!”
I paused mid-jog and tracked down the source of the sound. When I saw her face, I broke out into a smile. “Hello, Mrs. Henderson. What can I do for you?”
The older woman’s hands and head shook almost violently. Her caregiver, Jenny, had told me she suffered from Parkinson’s disease, and even with her medication, the shakes would no longer stop, but it highly improved her speech. It made me wonder how she looked if she didn’t take her medication. The mental image was heartbreaking.
She attempted to smile, but it came across pained. “M-m-m-my faucet i-i-is leaking. W-w-would you mind?”
Jenny appeared behind Mrs. Henderson. “Hey, Matt. The doggone faucet is dripping again.” She blew the fallen strands of hair off her face and fluttered her lashes pleadingly. “You got a few minutes?”
I checked my watch and knew I didn’t have a lot of time to spare. But Mrs. Henderson was a nice lady and I hated to refuse her. “Sure. I got some time. Be back in a minute; I just gotta grab my tools.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, I flung open my apartment, snatched up my tools from the spare bedroom, and jogged back down the steps to Mrs. Henderson’s apartment.
Jenny was holding the door open for me, smiling. “Running around like you are is telling me you don’t have as much time as you claim.” I winked at her as I entered and she shook her head. “There’s no rush, Matt. You could’ve done this tomorrow. She wouldn’t have minded.”
Jenny was a tall, athletic, twenty-something who always wore ripped jeans and a tee. She had striking green eyes, long black-dyed hair, and a pierced septum. She was quite attractive. She was also very much a lesbian. I knew this, because leaving the building one night, I caught her making out with her girlfriend while being dropped off at Mrs. Henderson’s. If I hadn’t been in such a rush, I would’ve stopped and watched the entire show. It looked as though it was about to get hot and heavy.
“Why do tomorrow what I can do today, Jenny?”
She muttered, “Suck-ass,” and led me through to the leak. I grinned to myself in triumph.
She sat on the edge of the tub to watch me work. “Got a hot date tonight or something?”
“Or something,” I conceded then added teasingly, “but you know I only have eyes for you, Jen.”
She snorted a laugh. “You got the wrong equipment for me, lover.”
I shook my head dismally. “I know. That’s why I booked in for that procedure later this year. Then you can call me Matilda and we’ll live happily ever after.”
She opened her mouth to respond with a no doubt a saucy remark, when the sound of glass shattering followed by Mrs. Henderson’s, “Oh, dear,” followed. Jenny ran out of the bathroom.
I called out, “Everything okay?”
Jenny responded an amused, “Yep. Just a glass of juice Mrs. H thought looked better on the floor.”
Mrs. Henderson tried to sound affronted, but I could hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, J-Jenny. You’re t-terrible.”
I smiled at their continued banter and fixed the faucet. As I left, I looked down at my watch and breathed easy. I still had time to spare.
Belinda was a single mother from out of town. She was shy and sweet with a rocking body, a short, dark business-do, and soft brown eyes. She booked every three months. She had a daughter, Lillian, whom she’d given birth to young and somehow found the time to complete her degree and get a more than decent job in a Fortune 500 company. She travelled for work, which made it easy for her to make it to her quarterly appointment without detection.
I made it my business to know as much about my clients as possible. When possible. Funny thing about Belinda was that she could speak to crowds of a hundred without batting a lash. Put her in front of a man at a bar and she’d withdraw into herself.
With Belinda, every meeting was a first date. Every appointment, I could be a different man. It worked out great for me, because I could channel a different character depending on what mood I was in.
I dressed in dark fitted jeans and a grey shirt, slipped on a pair of Italian leather dress shoes, and then went downstairs to the bar to meet Belinda for our ‘blind date.’
Before I could sit, I saw her. She spotted me and smiled, walking over to me. I stood, waiting for her to approach. I don’t know how it happened, but as I went to greet her, a name I hadn’t planned to say came out of my mouth. “Maya?”
Belinda blinked in confusion a moment before smiling and shaking her head. She lifted her hand and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a shy smile. “Maya,” she uttered thoughtfully. Then, beaming up at me, she agreed, “Yes. I’m Maya. And you must be…” her nose wrinkled adorably, “…Nick.”
Oh, God. She thought I was role-playing. I had just been about to apologize, when I spotted Belinda’s approving smile. There was nothing I could do now. She seemed to enjoy the change of name. Quite frankly, so did I. That was that. I was officially a sick fuck.
I needed a drink. The easy smile I wore so often didn’t sit so well tonight, and even though I had left my top button undone, I felt as if I were suffocating. “Would you like a drink…Maya?”
Belinda squinted. She was pretty cute. “No, thanks. But I am starving.”
Thank God. I was glad for the directive. I took Belinda’s hand and tucked it into the crook of my elbow, muttering meaningless conversation as we walked to the hotel’s restaurant. Belinda smiled and responded just as meaninglessly as I had spoken, then I stood behind her and helped her into her seat, because I was a fucking gentleman and she was paying for that part of me.
We sat opposite each other and made small talk. We ordered the special. We ate the special. I drank far too much for a dinner occasion, and as we made our way to the elevator, I found myself tipsy and horny as hell.
I held Belinda’s hand tightly and pulled her close, regardless of being the only two people in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed behind us, I slowly walked her into the corner of the small box. Placing a hand on her stomach, I bent lower to place my lips at her cheek. I closed my eyes and whispered a desperate plea, “Can I kiss you…Maya?”
Her reply came in the form of a soft sigh. I didn’t need time to think about what I was doing; it came naturally to me. I was a whore. This was what I did.
Pressing her into the corner, I kissed her cheek before turning slightly and capturing her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss. I could feel Belinda’s shock. I would normally never be so bold, but tonight, Belinda wasn’t herself. She was Maya. And I was Nick.
Nick seemed to be one horny motherfucker, and so I went with it. Never mind being tipsy. Perhaps I was just using that as an excuse. Through her shock, I heard her moan. That was all it took to drive me on. I kissed Belinda like I had never kissed a client before. I kissed her as I wanted to kiss a woman, as I craved to kiss a woman. Unrestrained and wild.
Her tongue dipped out to lick the seam of my lips. My arms snaked around her waist and I pulled her into my body, groaning. I grinded my jean-clad erection into her stomach and reveled in her gasp. I needed to be inside of May—
Belinda. I needed to be inside of Belinda.
As if the gods of sex had heard my silent demand, the elevator opened on our floor, and in a tangle of lips and limbs, we somehow stumbled through the hall to the room. I have no recollection of how I opened the door, because I don’t actually remember doing it.
I walked her backwards to the bed till the backs of her knees hit the frame. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I pushed her back and she fell onto the bed, a dreamy look imprinted on her face.
My raging hard-on was making demands and, stupidly, I was listening. My fingers worked the buttons of her shirt, and once the final button was undone, I spread the material, eyeing my prize. Belinda watched me, wide-eyed as I leaned over, kissed her hard on the mouth, and ran my hands up her stomach, past her ribs to gently grasp her breasts.
But it wasn’t enough. With my mouth on hers, I unclasped the bra’s front hook and freed her perky, pink-tipped beauties. I pulled back to look at her. The soft blush on her cheeks, and eyes darting around nervously, only made me harder. My hands found their way back to her breasts and I squeezed lightly before running my thumbs over her taut nipples.
God, I was a tit man. Belinda didn’t have a lot in that department, but she was sensitive and goddamn responsive.
A growl escaped me as my mouth descended and I captured a sweet pink bud between my lips. I sucked and nipped until Belinda was a panting mess, all while still wearing her skirt and high heels. I worked quickly, unhooking then unzipping her tight tan skirt. Her panties joined it on the floor, along with her bra and shirt.
The high heels stayed put, and so did her silky thigh-highs.
Belinda scrambled to the middle of the bed as I began to disrobe. I worked slowly, unbuttoning my shirt then letting it fall over my shoulders and onto the carpet. My jeans and boxers came off in one swift tug then I was bare, exposed and damn excited.
Panting from anticipation, I climbed onto the bed and over Belinda, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. “I’m going to eat you till you scream…Maya.”
Her eyes rolled back into her head at my blunt statement and it drove me wild. I pushed her legs open, lowered my face, and ate her like I was Pooh Bear and her pussy was the sweetest pot of honey. She came in my mouth, then she came again, harder, but it didn’t calm me. In fact, it only spurred me on. I was on fire, burning alive from the inside out.
I was about to combust; my hot, heavy cock told me so.
With Belinda in a delirious state, I moved down her body, settled between her legs, discreetly suited up, and gently entered her slick pussy. I worked her slowly at first, and just as I’d predicted, soon she had her claws in me and was panting, “Harder. Goddamn it, harder!”
Fuck today’s run. It had nothing on the workout I was getting right now. I thrust harder and watched as her mouth gaped, her eyes opening wide. I had it. I was hitting her sweet spot. I loved this part. My mouth turned up in a cocky smirk.
Slowing down, I pulled out then thrust hard. I did this again and again and, finally, she clamped around me, contracting as she came, her body taut, her eyes fluttering in bliss. She rode it out as I worked her hard.
Then, it was my turn.
I placed my hands up by the sides of her head and thrust eagerly, punishingly. She would feel me tomorrow; there was no doubt about that. I pushed into her again and again, and when I fixed on her face, I caught her soft, sleepy smile.
It caught me by surprise. My mind was overrun with thoughts of how Maya would look as she came. And with that, my balls tightened and I stilled deep inside Belinda, letting out an animalistic shout as I came.
My body slumped and I collapsed, breathless, on top of Belinda. She was warm and soft and welcoming. As her arms came around me and she ran her fingers up and down my back, muttering an astonished, “Wow,” I felt like shit for the mere fact that this beautiful woman hadn’t made me come, but a figment of my screwed imagination.
I was going to hell.
At three a.m., my body lay exhausted in my bed, but my brain wouldn’t quit. I stared at the text I had just written.
Me: Why is it that I had sex with a woman tonight, but couldn’t stop thinking of you?
I stared at it a long time before I deleted the draft, switched off my phone, and lay in bed, awake and drained. I reclined awake to witness a beautiful sunrise, only I took no pleasure in the pretty splashes of orange and pink.
At that moment, I hated that sunrise almost as much as I hated my weakness.
