I sigh deeply, letting go of what happened with Mister Angry Face, and turn around to see Sophie right where Marcel was looking. She hurries me with a hand, and I quickly follow her inside.
The music is echoing through the pub like it was last night. It makes me instantly forget the frown on Marcel's face to be replaced by the intensity on Ash's in my mind. I look at him in awe, always so amazed by him. I need to pull the brakes on my infatuation towards him because we made it clear nothing could happen more than a good time. He is leaving... He doesn't come from here... I need to keep on repeating myself that to slow me down. I don't even know the guy. Having the attention and the affection of somebody feels so surreal. I'm not a Ronnie... Why me?
I decide to get a drink to change my mind more easily. Ash and I decided to have a special kind of friendship, something beneficial for both of us. I feel like he's changing me... At least, I'm changing the way I look at things. He makes me more self-conscious, and I like that.
"What can I get you?" The lad behind the bar asks me, tearing me out of my thoughts. I frown, not knowing... What the hell.
"Two shots of tequila and a glass of whiskey on rocks, please." I surprise myself with my order. I need something strong.
I quickly turn around and lean back on the bar to look at Ashley. Ashley... I can't keep myself from fantasising about him and everything he makes me feel, both emotionally and physically. My mind drifts back to what happened to us last night. It was amazing. I never thought it could be this good. Nobody has ever made me feel this ecstatic. Steeve never did. I never thought it could be possible.
I smirk widely at the images in my head, Ash on top of me, his moans deep murmured to my ear, but get very frightened when I remember that Steeve got mad at me in the same room. I am turned off immediately. I don't get why I lost so many years of my life with somebody that doesn't treat me like I deserve. Even Marcel, who bothers me to no end, shows me greater manners and respect. It didn't seem that way the first time we encountered, but he told me he meant everything he said to me that first day as a compliment, and I understand now that compliments are not something to take lightly when it comes to him. I have no idea how many times I've replayed this scene in my head. Knowing Marcel now, I know he didn't mean to push me away the way he did. He was truly complimenting me. In his own guarded and twisted way.
Even if Marcel is hard to get, he is driven by his passion. He is thoughtful, and he has so much depth. I believe his cold and indifferent behaviour comes from an emotional shutdown. I sometimes get the chance to see glimpses of his natural self. I think he is a romantic at heart. I see it in the way he chooses every word to describe each character and the protagonists' relationship more precisely.
Steeve is nothing like that. He has no depth whatsoever. When he acts out, it's for no logical reason. The only reason I can think of to justify how mean he acts towards me it's to greater his self-esteem. His behaviour is so entitled without a cause. He is not intelligent nor particularly handsome compared to the men in my life now. He has horrible taste in movies and music. He never wears perfume. He doesn't clean up after himself. But worst of all, he spends most of his nights drinking with his school buddies, as self-centred and dumb as he is. He is rarely affectionate, and when he touches me, it's only to fuck me without my consent. But it's not rape when we're in a relationship, right?
It might have been the most emotionally exhausting weekend, never knowing where to stand with him. I felt a bit like that with Marcel, but at least we compromised and had some fun together. He is so cold and stiff all the time that the small moments of enjoyment I get from him mean more than anything. They make it worth the downsides.
"There you go, Miss." The barman tells me, again interrupting my thoughts, but I am glad I was getting way too sentimental about my boss this time.
I drink both my shots at the bar. Then, I head back to the table to join Sophie to watch the show and maybe get my mind off all these men in my life.
As the show goes on, I can't seem to look at anything else than Ash. The alcohol sprints through my veins, and I need to control the depth of my fantasies. And that's for everyone's sake. The mix of exhaustion and my whiskey gets me woozy and very hot.
The second my drummer looks at me, I feel like my body is caught on fire between songs. One look and he gets me about to ignite. He lights the spark inside of me. He makes me feel desirable.
He winks, and I bite my lip absentmindedly. The hope of what will happen tonight is the only thing on my mind until I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket.
I frown in annoyance that Ash and I's moment is ruined and look down on my lap where I hide my cellphone from the stage, under the table. As if they could see who texted from the scene.
Mr Not Wright: Are you with your friends?
Me: I am.
I quickly respond and look for any clue that might justify why the fuck he would text me to ask me that. Sometimes I just want to know what goes on inside that head of his. What does he think about?
Me: Why?
Mr Not Wright: Wanted to know if you were safe.
It takes a moment where I read back his message over and over. I smile despite myself and give more attention to my phone than to the show.
Me: You left me at, literally, ten feet from the door.
Me: :P
Mr Not Wright: Never too careful.
Me: Why are you nice to me? It's weird.
Mr Not Wright: Weird?
Me: Yeah! You rarely are. I never know where to stand with you. One second, you seem to be kind, and the other, you seem to hate me.
Mr Not Wright: I don't hate you.
I look away from my phone, the time to blush and feel too excitedly happy. My thumbs start to tap my screen before my head tells me how bizarre this situation is. I shouldn't get too invested. I know it will backlash in my face, but now I'm drunk, and I don't care. I enjoy him and our conversations a lot.
I need to pee.
Me: Well, you better make it clear to me then.
Me: Wait, hold a second. I need to use the loo.
I get up in a hurry and rush to the restroom. Once I'm seated, I take back my phone with an intense giddiness fueled by the alcohol running through my veins.
Mr Not Wright: We are not on the phone. No need to tell me that.
Me: There are so many people that have written on the walls of this stall.
Me: Want to know what they say? Some are pretty funny.
Mr Not Wright: If it makes you happy.
Me: "Claire Whitmore, I fucked your BF in here."
Me: "I kissed my brother, and I liked it."
Me: This loo has impressive secrets. I'm a bit disgusted, actually.
Me: Funny, isn't it?
He takes a long time to respond, so I put down my phone. I close my eyes a second, and I get too comfortable. I decide to wipe myself and get back to my friends. Sophie questions me, but I'm too drunk to make any answers clear. I look back at the show and get back at staring maybe too intensely at Ash when my phone vibrates in my hands.
Mr Not Wright: How drunk are you?
Me: Maybe a little bit.
Mr Not Wright: Grace? It's the second time you get drunk. Don't make the same mistake as last week. Stop drinking and switch to water. We have work to do in the morning.
I roll my eyes and whine to myself as I reply, not realising the applause going on and the boys' set finishing.
Me: Anything more you want to demand... Dad?
Mr Not Wright: Yes, actually. Go to bed.
Me: Believe me. I intend to. ;) ;) ;)
Me: The bed is calling me right now. I need to go.
Mr Not Wright: Don't forget me in the morning. Same time.
Me: No worries. I will leave with Sophie.
Mr Not Wright: Who is Sophie?
Me: She works for you, at the front office in the lobby. I need to go.
Mr Not Wright: Stay close to your friends. Be safe.
His words make me laugh, both genuinely and because I am significantly intoxicated. If he only knew how close I intend to be with my special friend. Haha, haha!! And I am safe. I am on birth control. Hahahahaha! This is so not funny, but it is. At least that's what I try to convince everyone in the car.
"Ash, can you just shut her up and kiss her or something?" Lucas says as he drives us back to the flat.
"Hey! I can hear you!" I let out, my head spinning from the alcohol and all the laughter because I find myself so hysterically funny.
"She is cute! Shut it! It's not me who got my girlfriend moody." Ash defends me, and I snuggle closer to his chest the best I can with these damn seat belts.
"I'm not moody. I'm pissed, Ash." Sophie exclaims, and the scene goes too quickly for me to fully understand what is going on.
"Even better." Ash's chest vibrates under my ear.
"Soph, it meant nothing. The girl offered me the drink, and I took it because it was free."
"You were flirting back!"
"I didn't! Would you stop?! I thanked her, and that's it."
"You fucking winked! I don't even know why I let you come over; you won't get anything from me tonight."
"It's not like I get a lot anyway..."
"Excuse me?!" Sophie's drunk voice is raspy, and I try my best to stay silent. I am so glad when Lucas finally parks in front of the flat.
Ash and I get out of the car quickly as the two keep on arguing in the car. I run up the stairs of the building and get my key out of my pocket. It has only been a day that I have officially moved here, but it feels like home already. I like it.
I take my phone out and text Sophie.
Me: Is everything OK?
Sophie: Yeah... Everything's fine. He is taking me to his place. Sorry for everything. I'll see you tomorrow at the office.
Me: Make him regret what he said. Blow his mind. ;) ;) ;)
Sophie: I don't know what you are talking about... ;) Take advantage of the empty flat to do the same.
I smirk widely at my screen and shut down my phone to not be disturbed at all while I do precisely what Sophie told me to do. I put it on the coffee table and turn to look at Ashley. The fire is still widely burning inside of me, and it is raging the second my eyes meet his. I don't recognise myself at all in this ravaging desire wetting my sex. I am so aroused, I have been all evening. I am impatient, and it isn't long before my action proves that.
I walk towards Ashley, intending to jump into his arms. I want him, and I want him here and now.
"You have no idea how sexy you look..." I tell him as he catches me and holds me tightly under my bum.
My hands cup his cheeks strongly as I pressure my lips on his with the same passion. I breathe in and slide my tongue on his lips, urging the need to taste him, feel him, unite with him.
"I want you so bad..." I let out before quickly stealing his lips again.
I have never been this eager before. I rush everything guided by only my lust. It's a side of me that never saw the light, and now it is finally free. I just can't believe Ash brings that out of me. He isn't quite as passionate or naughty the way alcohol makes me become, but he is gentle and loving and... perfect. I grind my hips absentmindedly against him, and it makes me even more desperate to feel him.
"I want you on the couch. The one they all saw us together yesterday." I ask him as I kiss my way to his jaw and down to his neck.
He steps toward the couch and kneels to sit me on it. I open my legs wider to pull him closer. I steal one last kiss from him before rushing my hands on my shirt and making it fly through the room. I reconnect my hungry mouth with his. I take my hands to the back of my bra and unclasp it to have my chest bare finally. I reek of intense desperation. Ash is like a fantasy to me. I feel like I'm living in a dream, and I'll wake up next to Steeve. I want to enjoy this moment while it lasts.
I get surprised and aroused at the few seconds it takes for his lips to be drawn to my nipples. He gives them both a great deal of attention, and I slowly lay back on the couch, taking in every ounce of pleasure as my sex tickles for affection. My mind drifts to darker fantasies I have never even thought of before. I want him to kiss me and lick me as he does to my breasts, but at my core.
My hips move in excitement, barely able to contain it all inside. I arch my back, making it all too clear how desperate I am. I pant harder through every swirl of his tongue and every kiss of his lips on my sensible nibbles. I lay back my head, lick my lips and bite my lower one to keep me from panting.
I look down at him to hurry him to get him undressed, and we gaze lustfully at each other. His fingers run to the button of my jean and quickly slide them down. He does the same with my panties. I feel exposed but thrilled to feel something against my aching core. I need contact so much it drives me crazy. I barely recognise myself. I have never behaved this way.
I straighten myself in a sitting position and tear his skinny jeans off him as he takes off his shirt. I don't ask questions or think. It's the first entire glance I have at his penis. It's fully erect and ready for combat. I am drawn to it. Its length and its colour are so much more appealing than Steeve's. I can't believe how hard he is, and I haven't touched it yet.
He doesn't move as I have my face right in front of his manhood. I feel his gaze burning through me as I am pretty hypnotised by my intuition. I take his erection in my hand and guide the head towards me. It's shiny, a sparkly transparent drop at the tip. I run my thumb on it circularly and kiss Ash's silky skin. He moans so profoundly that it pushes me to keep going and try other things he might like.
I lick his entire tip and keep running my tongue around him. I look up at him, being entirely at my mercy. I read desperation and pleasure in his eyes. I lick my lips and slide him in, making sure to press my tongue as much as I can on his sensitive skin. I go back in forth for a while, trying to get deeper. I have trouble getting used to it. With Steeve, it was so different. I didn't have much work to do. He wasn't hard to please, quite the trigger happy also.
His hands come to my head, getting a soft grip on my hair. It gets me to look at him again, gazing right into his lustfully dark eyes. He takes himself out without wasting a second.
"You've almost made me come, Grace. Lay back." He says and rushes himself between my legs. I feel very proud to be able to please him. It's gratifying to know I excite him that much.
He takes his penis in his hand, and he slides easily in. I was more than ready, and I almost screamed in relief at the contact. He thrusts faster from now on, and I don't need much to bring me to the edge.
He holds himself over me, both of his hands supporting himself on each side of my body. His curls fall of his head. His mouth is opened, his lips are pouted, and he pants hard. I reach for his back, holding him, feeling how hot we both become. I welcome my approaching high by moving my hips accordingly for ultimate sensations.
"Oh, God! Ash, I'm... coming." I let out, my teeth tightly shut, each of my muscles tensed as I held my breath, releasing around him.
I am taking back my breath, my high fading but lasting at the same time as he keeps on thrusting me to a shallow rhythm, my pleasure spasming in waves.
"Oh yeah..." He groans loudly, not able to finish his sentence.
He thrusts me lazily a few more times, more demanding than before, and releases inside of me. It's weird how much I like this freedom to feel him entirely. I feel his sex pulsating inside of me as I spasm around him still.
He collapses on top of me, panting as hard as me. He drops lazy kisses on my breast, and I slide my hands to his head where I caress his hair, trying my best to catch my breath. I look at the ceiling as I feel him move and pull out.
"I think we just got the couch wet," I remark as I feel my core dripping down to my bum.
"We left our mark. It'll be our little secret." He smirks and gets up to take us to my bedroom.
-
Loud noises. Repeated annoying fucking noises! I open my eyes, and they are struck by the light peeking through the windows. Why is it so fucking bright?!
The noise is heard again, but it might only be the sound of my heart beating in my head. I have such a solid and despicable headache. Why did I drink this much?
I have the strength to roll my eyes and roll my body against Ashley's. He immediately puts his arm around me. I feel good as I nuzzle my way deeper against his body. It makes him laugh, and it resonates through my skull. It would have filled me with happiness if it didn't make my headache.
"Everything is so loud," I complain as he chuckles.
"You were quite wild last night." He reminds me, caressing my hair with a hand and both eyes closed.
"Yeah... I don't think I can take alcohol very well..."
"No shit?!" He mocks me and kisses my forehead. My heart pounds in my head again, but he seems to notice too. "What's that?"
"You hear it too?" I feel slightly less crazy now, and I sigh.
"Yeah... I think someone is at the door." He lets out and frowns, getting out of the bed, naked as a worm. I can't help but stare with a bright smile on my lips. "Have you seen my boxers?"
"Maybe with our clothes, in the living room." I smile at him as I roll on the bed to never leave him from sight as he goes to answer the door.
He leaves the room and closes the door the way it was. I snuggle back into the sheets, but I can't find sleep again. I am fully awake, and I need to do something about my headache and my dry throat. I can't wait to get rid of this pain. I need painkillers right away.
I get out of bed way too quickly, and it makes my head spin a couple of seconds. I walk towards the dresser to hold myself up until it goes away. When it does, I quickly take one of my shirts from the drawer and put a pair of panties to leave the room in search of relief.
I turn the knob and exit my bedroom lost in the thoughts of where can Sophie keep the pills. But I have no idea, and my head feels like mashed potatoes right now. I don't trust the thoughts that can come out of there.
"Ash? Do you know where Sophie keeps her painkillers?" I ask him as I reach for a glass in a top cupboard and fill it with water from the sink.
I hear him talk from the small hall, and I realise that there might really be somebody at the door, but who the hell might that be?! Sophie has a key, and she is supposed to work this morning. Apart from her, I don't know who this might be... Lucas maybe?
I think about that way too deeply for my miserable head. I need to stop drinking or at least be responsible. I take a big sip of water and silently step towards the living room, trying to be subtle and glance at what is happening.
I get on the tip of my toes and make the wooden floor crack like crazy under my weight. Shit! I damn myself for being so clumsy and noisy, rolling my eyes at myself at the same time.
The second I look up, my sight gets lost on black trousers, a white shirt and a marine cardigan. My gaze up to meet the presence of every shade of anger— the blood freezes in my veins. I almost drop my glass of water in surprise. The man stares right at me, not flinching a second, still taking in everything he has seen by coming into the middle of the living room. His gaze looks coldly and directly at me, behind his squared glass, emotionless as I know him to be.
Marcel.