She scratched her head, and sent me a sheepish smile. “You may be right. I was hoping I’d be able to inspire you and you’d lead the way. I’m all talk, I guess. Can you believe I lost my virginity at twenty-seven? Yup, and to an asshole too. After waiting that long I thought I would see fireworks, but instead all I remember are the brown stains on his apartment ceiling from a water leak. I swear one of them was shaped like a giant dick."
It would have been funny if it was not so sad. Slamming my glass on the table I pulled her to her feet. I had a decent amount of drink in me so I just took a deep breath and headed over towards Black Shirt and his friend. To my great surprise and delight, his friend rose to meet me halfway, the kindest of smiles across his face.
"Hi," I said to him.
“Hey,” he replied. “You have more guts than me.”
"I'm just a bit more drunk.”
He laughed, and I could feel the nervous tension within me begin to unravel. Maybe I could never have Brett King, but there was a sea of men out there for me. All I had to do was forget him. And what better way than with such a sweet guy.
"Can you stomach one more drink?" he asked with a slow smile.
The band was playing Great Balls Of Fire. There was still no one on the dance floor yet, but what the heck. I smiled up at him. "A dance for now sounds amazing. The drink can come after.”
"As you wish ..." he said gallantly, and taking my hand twirled me to the dancefloor. I dragged Melly with me. I was going to get her Black Shirt for her, or die trying. I glanced back and sure enough Black Shirt was watching us. I began to believe it had been a good call to come out this evening.
No matter what, I was going to forget Brett King … and his fabulous abs.
Chapter 31
Brett
I had spent the last four hours restless and angry. I hadn’t felt this way for a long time. In the end I had tried to burn off the excess energy by training for nearly two hours. My muscles were screaming as I stepped into a hot shower. I toweled my hair as I walked to my trio of computer screens. I would work until I became so exhausted I could no longer keep my eyes open. Work always took me to a place where no other thoughts could come in.
I looked at the numbers on the screen. Usually, that would have been enough to pull me into another world, but tonight I could not get into it. I looked at the clock. Nearly eleven. I stood and went to the bar. I poured myself a very large scotch and downed it in one. The liquid radiated warmth all the way down to my stomach.
I sighed. I knew what was wrong with me. It burned me to look down from my window and see Charlotte leave with Melly. I knew what two girls out on the town did. And Charlotte looked beautiful in a pink, figure hugging sweater and jeans that showed of her curves. It maddened me to think of all the men who would look at her. It maddened me even more to think I had no right over her. As much as I wanted it she was not mine. If she saw my face …
Fuck.
My fist slammed into the palm of my left hand. I poured myself another glass. What if she went home with another man? Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe I was torturing myself like this. Angrily, I paced the floor. Last orders were at 10.00. The pubs started throwing people out at 10.30. She should have been back by now.
I stopped mid-stride. What if they had met with an accident? Now, I was being paranoid.
I heard the sound of a car, and rushed to my window. I saw a taxi drive up to the gates and relief poured through my body. I wanted to stay at the window and watch her come in, but I forced myself to walk away. I sat at my computer and stared at the screen while my ears strained to hear the sounds in the courtyard. I heard the sound of two doors slamming shut. I heard a giggle. Then it was quiet.
I let go of the breath I was holding. She was back. All was well.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the intercom buzzed. “Charlotte?” I said.
“Brett, is that you?”
“Yes. Is everything alright?”
“No. I’m thinking of quitting.”
Everything in me instantly stilled.
“Did you hear me?” she asked belligerently, her words slurring. “I’m thinking of … of … quitting.”
I exhaled with relief. Charlotte Conrad was intoxicated.
“Why do you want to quit?” I asked, prepared to be entertained.
Something fell to the ground and she cursed. “I want to quit because I cannot stand the way both of you treat Zackary. You ignore him. His mother feeds him a bunch of lies.”
“What lies?”
“Oh that. I’ll have to talk to you about them later.”
“Why?”
“Because … because it’s very important and I need to be sober, you know what I mean?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, I know that things aren’t easy but … you’re not even trying anymore.”
Again I heard the clatter of something falling and another low curse. I tried not to laugh. “Sit on your bed,” I suggested. All the noise was probably her struggling to remain upright. She was so drunk it was a wonder she was still able to communicate.
“I’m sitting now. That was a good idea, Brett. Anyway, coming back to what I was saying. What was I saying? Oh yeah, you are not trying anymore. I expect better from you, Brett King.”
“Why?”
“I don't know,” came her response. I knew without seeing her that she was frowning. And I knew she would look adorable. “But I … I just know … you caaaaaan.”
“Will you stay if I say I’ll try harder.”
“I guess so.”
A brief silence ensued. “Where have you been tonight?”
“The Red Something. Peahen … cockerel. Some sort of bird anyway.” She burst out in giggles.
“Did you have a good time?”
“I drank a lot and I danced,” she announced innocently, but the harmless information wound up all the nerves in my body. “There was a farmer there. He looked a bit like you,” she added.
My snort was bitter. She knew nothing of what I looked like, but still I wanted to find out how she had imagined me to be in her mind. “What did he look like?”
“A little bit like you, slightly smaller and not as nice obviously, but in the dark, I could have been fooled. However, his voice … I hated it. Yours rumbles … it is low and sexy, his was a ring. I thought I’d suddenly developed that ear disease. What is it called? It’s like a high-pitched ringing.”
I smiled then. “Tinnitus.”
“That’s the one.”
“Brett.”
“Yes.”
“I want to be filled again,” she blurted out suddenly.
I froze. I didn’t need an explanation to understand what she meant, especially at the way her voice became sultry and breathless on the last word.
She went on. “There’s this constant, fluttering ache down in my—”
Her breathing hitched as though she wasn’t even in control of her words.
She groaned. “It won’t freaking stop. It’s hollow and insatiable … and no matter how hard I try I just can’t stop replaying that night.”
The question was torn from my lips. “What night?”
“It was so real I still can’t be sure if it actually happened, or if it was just a dream … but my God. You came at me … your tongue speared me … it was hot and wet … and so was I. Actually, I was soaked. That’s a better term. Soaked. Your teeth bit down on my clit and I explo—”
I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I was out of my room in an instant.
The lights had all been turned off for the night. The corridors were illuminated only by the external lights and the rays of moonlight. It didn’t matter because I’d been wandering these corridors in the dark for years. I knew the path by heart.
Chapter 32
Brett
https://www.youtube.com/wa
tch?v=2i2khp_npdE
Sing Me To Sleep
As I hurried down the corridors, I asked myself what exactly I was going to do when I reached her. It’s just to ensure that she’s alright, came the response from inside my head. I pretended to believe it. I didn’t allow myself think of the consequences of my action. Later. I will think of them later, but for now, pure unadulterated lust was my guiding light.
Blood raced through me and drummed in my ears. I didn’t even knock, I just pushed the door open and walked through. She was settled on the floor, her legs pushed straight in front of her, and leaning against the bed.
I had not been with a woman in years so I just stood there and watched her. Not just watched, I drank her in. Every last detail.
From the gentle sway of her head nodding to a tune in her head only she could hear, to the soft tilt of her lips in a dreamy smile. My eyes noted that her sweater was the same sweet pink of her lipstick. The neckline had been pulled down by her hunched position and I could see the creamy wing-like protrusions of her collar bone.
In the yellow light her skin looked like silk and the need to taste it overwhelmed me. I wanted to lick that warm, soft skin. She started to rise then, her movements unstable. Instantly, I went to her. With both of my hands grasping her upper arms I pulled her upright and watched as her eyes focused on me.
Damn she was beautiful.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Have you come to help me get into bed?”
“Yes.” My voice was almost a growl of frustration. Pushing the covers aside, I lowered her on the bed. She still had her heels on so I took her foot in my hand and began to undo the buckles. They were fiddly. My big hands looked clumsy.