Weird and Weirder

Ch11. Josh POV - You Can't Always Get What You Want

Chapter 11 – Josh's POV

You Can't Always Get What You Want

I've always prided myself to be an imaginative kind of guy. I think in the imagination department, not a lot of people can compete with me. All of my friends say I'm kind of deranged with the stuff I can come up with. I have no idea why my brain works like this, but I know I can come up with a lot of crazy stuff.

Clearly, I've overestimated my talents, because in all the scenarios I could have come up with this morning as to how my day would go, kissing Hot Flea Market girl wasn't on the list. Kissing a dolphin would have been more plausible as a day activity than making out with her, my back pressed against a dirty public toilet stall.

Part of me wants to stop kissing her, just say toodles, and leave her hanging. That ought to teach her. She's kissed me and abandoned me before. She's left me intrigued and obsessed and freaking miserable over her.

I'm clearly the bottom in this relationship, if we can even call what we have a relationship.

I should be asking her if she has a boyfriend. The fact that she just keeps cornering me like this, hidden from everyone is probably bad news.

This isn't surprising though. This girl has always been bad news.

The fact that she's bad news will definitely not make me stop kissing her.

My hand goes to the small of her back and I keep her pressed against me as her arms wrap around my neck.

Her kisses are like an atomic bomb, violently explosive, dangerous to everyone around and leave lasting effects for years to come.

I don't think I ever want to stop kissing her. Even if she might have a boyfriend. Even if she'll probably leave me hanging again.

I have her pressed up against me so close, and I can feel too much of her and not enough fabric between us that could help me retain part of my self-control.

I slid a hand in her blonde hair and pull her head back, breaking our kiss.

I feel her soft breath against my lips. Pink lemonade and warm sun.

"Do you ever wear underwear, or is that like, against your religion?" I ask softly.

Her eyes boring into mine are wicked. "I'm just really forgetful you see. Bra, panties, decorum, that kind of thing, they all go whoosh."

God, that voice. Phone sex with her would destroy me.

Wait. Is she forgetful about her boyfriend too? Maybe I saw wrong. Maybe she doesn't have a boyfriend. Maybe she goes around skipping and laughing with boys and I'm in no place to judge when I was kissing other people.

Or maybe I'm becoming a homewrecker.

AM I A MISTRESS?

I don't ask her anything though, because she kisses me again and I can't stop her. I don't want to stop her.

She's my kind of crazy, that's why I'm so hooked. No one in their right mind would be doing what we're going. We've barely exchange more than thirty words in all of our interactions.

Before our first bathroom encounter, she had never talked with me. I had seen her roaming around the flea market. She's looked at me with those wicked eyes of her, and that naughty smile and she'd hold my gaze long enough for me to know that she was looking at me, that I wasn't imagining it and then she'd just walk away.

I thought I had game when it came to flirting or seducing. I thought I had it down, that no one could play me, that I could have anyone I wanted. This girl is playing me like a fucking fiddle.

Speaking of playing, her hands go under my shirt, on my back, warm palms pressed against my muscles.

She drags her nails against my skin while also dragging her teeth against my lip.

I want to rip that summer dress off of her. I want to be anywhere far from this public bathroom. Anywhere remote where we're alone and she can't run away. I want her legs around me and my mouth on her skin.

I keep feeling like she's going to run away any second.

I wrap my arms tightly around her waist and lift her up. She lets out a little yap of surprise.

My back hits the stall again, unsteady.

I want to kiss her neck and her throat, I want to lift that dress of hers and grab her leg and make my way up. I want, I want, I want.

She presses a hand against my chest and breaks our kiss, gently pushing me off of her. "Hmm, I think that answers it..." she trails, her voice raspy.

I am not human. I am nerve endings and panting desires. I feel warm all over.

What did she need to check? To see if she could completely ruin me?

She's about to leave. It's obvious.

"Wait, what's your name?" I ask, happy I still have a voice and can actually form a sentence and not just bark word like a caveman. Woman, what name is? Me horny.

She smirks. "Nope."

"What?"

"I'm a woman of mystery."

I chuckle. That she is. "Wanted in forty-three states?"

Still that naughty smile. "Possibly. You'll never know," she answers and takes a step towards the door.

"Wait." I grab her arm and drag her back in mine, holding on to the back or her blonde head, and I kiss her slow and hard, I kiss her like this is the last time I'll ever kiss anyone, like she's my long lost love, like she's leaving for the New World and I'll never see her again, like I've looked for her for a hundred years and I'm about to die now and this is my last chance.

She's not going to give me anything, and I can't fight her on this. It's her choice. But I'll be damned if I let her completely win.

I stop kissing her. Her eyes are still closed. She wobbles on her feet a little. I lean down and whisper in her ear, "I'm the one leaving this time," and leave her there breathless.