A pleased, erotic sound rumbles in Erin’s throat. “So glad, Justice. I wish I was there so you could reach between my thighs and feel how glad I am.”
That should’ve at least piqued my interest. Maybe even a little tingle down below. But nope. Nothing.
“Do you want to be here?” That’s right. I’ll play the game. A little cat and mouse will get my blood pumping.
“What do you think?” She plays her part flawlessly.
I’m just about to tell her to pack a bag and head to the airport where a first class ticket will be waiting for her, when a banging sound rattles my skull. Has Jiminy Cricket gotten off his green ass and decided to finally do his job? Or has that tiny devil cooked up an even better plan to sate our licentious needs?
Listen to my delusional ass. I really need to get out more.
The banging echoes through the space again, before I finally realize that it’s not just a figment of my imagination. It’s the door.
I make my way to the nearest curtain where I peek out, my cell still attached to my ear. I instantly regret it the second my eyes fall on her, so shiny and bright and alive.
I don’t want shiny and bright and alive. I want dark, devious and shameful. That’s what people like me deserve.
“Uh, hello? Justice?” Erin calls out from the receiver. I ignore her and go to open the front door much quicker than what is deemed acceptable for a man like myself.
Who am I kidding? I busted a Usain Bolt, then damn near hurtled over an end table, only to nearly break off the door handle.
“Hey!” Ally smiles.
Ally smiles. It’s like a song lyric, or an ancient proverb.
“Hey,” I exhale out of relief, as if I hadn’t breathed easily without her presence. I hate how my body just knows her. How it reacts so differently to her than anyone else. It gives her power over me, something no one has ever relinquished since the day I extricated myself from her world.
“Can I come in?”
“Hello? Hellooooo?” Oh shit. Erin.
“Let me call you back,” I murmur into the phone. Ally raises a speculative brow.
“What?” Erin snaps loudly. “Who is that? Who’s over there?”
“Maybe I should come back,” Ally whispers over Erin’s annoying screeching. I shake my head at her and hold up a finger as she tries to back away. Then I turn around so I can handle Erin properly.
“Who I have at my home is none of your concern,” I say into the receiver, my voice so cold that frost damn near settles on the touchscreen. “Do you understand me? You are an employee, and nothing else. But the next time you even think to open your mouth to question me, you won’t even be that.” I press End to keep from losing my shit and scaring Ally, ensuring that she’ll never return. I turn back to her slowly, hoping—praying—that she’s still there.
“Wow,” she says, her eyes wide and sparked with amusement. “Look at you, boss man, cracking the whip. Ouch.”
“Cracking the whip?” I smirk, stepping aside so she can enter. I stroke her cheek with a single finger just as she brushes past. “You wish you were so lucky.”
“Mr. Drake, are you flirting with me?” she asks, spinning to face me with a hand on her hip.
I close the front door and lean back on it, crossing my arms in front of me. “I don’t know. Depends on what you’re here for.” I grin, feeling the icy discomfort of just seconds ago melt away.
Reluctance shadows Ally’s face and she looks down at the ground. “It’s embarrassing. Which is stupid, seeing as I’ve already drooled on you, and you probably heard me snore. By the way, we’ll just forget that ever happened, capiche?”
I push off from the door to stand directly in front of her and cup her cheeks in my hand, stalling her self-deprecating rambling. She’s so soft, and I feel her face heat in my palms. It’s like holding fire. “What can I do for you, Ally?”
She looks at me with wonder in those too-big eyes, and her lips part, causing my gaze to study the movement. This could be it. This could be the moment I confess my sins and kiss this beautiful angel. I could taste heaven for the very first time.
Do it. Look at her—she’s begging you to.
Kissing Ally would be so easy. Touching her, holding her, tasting her… it’d be like breathing.
I want to breathe. I want to inhale her in every way possible. I want her life to sustain me, her heartbeat to synchronize with mine.
But I don’t want to taint her. I don’t want her to be like me. A cheater. A deviant. An outcast. She deserves better, and I’m not better. Not better than what she already has, which is Evan.
She doesn’t want me. She has him.
The realization is like being dumped in a tub of ice water, and I step away from her, removing my hands from the curve of her cheeks. Ally blinks rapidly as if she’s been sleepwalking, and knots her hands in front of her.
“So, um, yeah. I need your help.”
I run my hand through my short-cropped hair just to give myself something to do. Then I go to the kitchen to get a drink for my suddenly dry mouth. I grab a kettle for tea. Nah. That won’t do the trick. Juice? Water?
Wine. When in doubt, always go with wine. I hold up the bottle and she nods, so I grab two glasses, filling them with rich, velvety liquid. Ally meets me halfway to take hers.
“So like I was saying…” she begins before taking a large gulp. “I need help.”
“I gathered that. Care to tell me with what? Because I’m pretty sure I could make a short list of things you need help with. Professional help.”
“Hey now!” she shrieks with mock offense. “It took a lot of practice to be this magnificently awkward. Dude, I was awkward before awkward was cool. I’m a pioneer for the movement.”
I chuckle before taking a slug of my wine. “Awkward was never cool. Only uncool people believe that.”
Once again, we fall into that easiness. No expectations. No games. Just real, genuine companionship. I laugh at her corny jokes. She shakes her head at mine. Whenever I look at her, she smiles. And in turn, I smile too.
How could I have ever thought that there was room for more?
“So anyway. For real this time, I need help.”
“With what?” I down the last of my wine and go to top off both our glasses.
“I have a confession to make: I’m a horrible dancer. I know what you’re thinking—how can someone so graceful and elegant be a bad dancer? But it’s true. Sad, but true. And ever since Candi and Jewel came, I’ve been really self-conscious. So I was wondering if you would help me, ol’ buddy ol’ pal.”
“Help you?”
She twirls a crimson curl around her finger. “Teach me to dance?”
I set my glass down on the nearest flat surface and throw my hands up so there’s no misinterpreting my answer. “No!”
“Aw, come on! You said you were always here for whatever we need. And I need to learn how to drop it like it’s hot. To shake what my mama gave me. To work my groove thang.” Ally sets down her glass to clutch her hands together in front of her chest. Then she walks towards me with an impish grin. “Please, oh please, Justice Drake. Teach me how to Dougie?”
I can’t even pretend to be put out by her. She’s just too damn adorable, looking up at me, those eyes shining with innocent mischief. I smile and shake my head, knowing that I don’t stand a chance against her ridiculous super power.
“Fine,” I exhale, rolling my eyes.
“Fine?” Those animated eyes dance with delight.
“Fine. I’ll help you.”
She makes that dying pig-cat crossbreed sound and jumps up and down. Then she’s grasping my shoulders. And it happens. Her lips are touching me—kissing me. It’s half a millisecond and she turns away just as swiftly, as if she doesn’t even register what she’s done to me. To her, it’s just an innocent peck on the cheek. To me, it’s enough to make my dick try to manually unzip my slacks, in hopes that it’ll get a kiss too.
Ally makes her way to
the Bose sound system situated on my entertainment stand and hooks up a little pink iPod she’s retrieved from the pocket of her cardigan. “I have to be honest with you—I have no rhythm and have been blessed with the cruel gift of two left feet. So be gentle with me.”
I raise a brow at her choice of words, but she’s too busy scrolling through her playlist to notice. “How do you even know I can dance?”
She gives me the side eye momentarily before turning a knob to adjust the volume. “I saw you with those strippers. I’m sure you know exactly what kind of dancing guys like.”
Booming bass lines puncture the room, coupled by digitized drumbeats. It initially startles the shit out of me, before I’m nearly in stitches at her ironic song choice. Ally whips off her cardigan and swings it around over her head, laughing hysterically.
“Come on, Magic Mike! Show me how to ride that pony!”
And she’s right—the girl cannot dance. Not to save her life.
She breaks into some remixed version of the funky chicken on crack before trying to twerk. And while that dance should not be performed by anyone – man, woman, or child—Ally most definitely should never, ever try it. At first I think she’s got butt cramps. Or her ass fell asleep and she’s trying to wake it up. I can’t even begin to ask, too overcome with hilarity to form coherent words. Shit, even I’m snorting a little.
“Oh…God, stop! Stop! You’re…killing…me!”
“What?” she asks innocently, still bent over and convulsing. She furrows her brow in concentration. “Am I doing it? Is it moving? I’ve been practicing for weeks!”
“Ally! Stop! You’ll hurt yourself!” I bend over to place my hands on my knees, struggling to catch my breath. I look back up to see her clapping her hands, trying to get her ass to shake in time with each clap. I die laughing again, and tears roll down my face.
“Whatever. I got this. I got this shit. Miley ain’t got nothin’ on me!”
I’m cackling so hard that I’m coughing, nearly brought to my knees with exhaustion. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna choke! You’re killing me with your horrible dance moves!”
Finally she straightens up and places a tiny fist on her hip. “Well, what am I doing wrong? How am I supposed to learn if you just keep laughing at me?” She’s trying to give me the stern, serious face, but I see a smile at the corners of her mouth, clawing its way free. When she can’t fight it any longer, she howls with laughter right along with me, until we’re both on the floor, clutching our stomachs.
“I told you I couldn’t dance!” she says, jabbing my arm with her finger. We’ve spent the better part of ten minutes just catching our breath. Whenever I thought I was over it, I’d get a flashback of her bent over, her narrow hips willing her ass cheeks to move, with that look of sheer determination on her face. Luckily, the song has long ended and changed to something less unfortunate, or I probably would’ve hacked up my spleen.
“Holy shit, Ally. You can’t. You really can’t.”
She rolls over on her side and looks at me, a few tears of laughter still in her eyes. “So do you think…do you think that’s why Evan does what he does? I mean, if I suck at shaking my ass, I probably can’t do…other stuff, right?”
I turn to face her, an odd feeling replacing the hilarity I felt just seconds before. It’s something like sadness and sympathy and anger all rolled into one, and compressed into the hollow of my chest. It’s too intense to feel, too complex to describe. But I feel it. I feel it for Ally.
“Come on,” I say climbing to my feet. I stretch out a hand to help her up. “I’d never be able to forgive myself if I let you believe that was anything remotely close to dancing.”
Ally lets me pull her up, smoothing her dress over her hips. “Well, then. What would you call it?”
I tap the freckled bridge of her nose. “Seizing.”
“SO LIKE THIS?”
“Yeah, just like that. Dip your hips a little more.”
“Like that?”
“Yeah. Good. Now grind your ass on me.”
I know what you’re thinking.
I’m obviously asking for it. I’ve got to be some masochist that gets off on giving myself blue balls. But hear me out.
Ally needed help, and after seeing her so vulnerable and exposed, grasping onto any hope that she could redirect Evan’s attention, I had to give it my best shot.
Plus, I just really wanted to feel her brushing her ass against me while my hands grip her hips. Eh, I’m only a man. Sue me.
“I feel stupid,” she says with a huff. I feel her trying to slip away, but I hold her tighter, cursing the thin layer of soft cotton that keeps my fingers from touching her skin. I don’t even care if she feels my erection pressing against her ass. On some level, I want her to feel it. Maybe she’ll get just an inkling of what she does to me.
“You don’t look stupid though. You should see yourself.”
“Really?”
Hit with a sudden stroke of genius, I spin her around to face me. “Really. Let me show you.”
I lead Ally to my bedroom just as the song chances into something slow and sultry, yet equally provocative. The room is dim, with only the light from the hall filtering in to light our path. I switch on a bedside lamp, illuminating the space just enough for her to see what I see.
“Stand here,” I command gently, positioning her in front of the floor length, gold-framed mirror stationed beside my closet.
“You’re kidding, right? You want me to dance in front of this mirror?”
I take my place behind her, just barely leaving an inch between our bodies. “You wanted to see how sexy you look. Here’s your chance.”
Soft, muted light graces the contours of her cheekbones and lips as she looks at me through the mirror. “But this is so…” Her voice is merely a husky whisper, but I hear her loud and clear. From this angle, I can see all of her. I can admire the flush of her skin and the way it travels from her face to the tops of her breasts. I can see the way her eyelids droop to narrow slits when she sways her hips from side to side, like she’s intoxicated from the energy flowing from my body to hers. And she can see the way my hand snakes around her waist to rest on her stomach, pressing her into me as I lightly push against her.
Ally’s mouth parts, and something animalistic and hungry escapes her lips. She keeps moving, rolling her body with mine in time with the beat. The music is slow, yet the beat is infectious, like sex on Audible. I feel the drums in my chest, the strings in my soul. My movements are as fluid and instinctual as if I was sliding into Ally right here, right now. As if I was fucking her from behind, here in front of this mirror, watching her come apart in my arms.
My hands move from her stomach up to her ribcage, and I feel her breaths become deeper as if she’s gasping for precious air. Yet, she looks completely serene in this moment. So much so, that she lets her eyes slide closed as she loses herself to music and sensation. And as I watch her bite her bottom lip, her head reclined back on my chest, I lose myself in her.
This is where I should stop. Where I should make some stupid joke that’ll break the palpable tension that has our bodies fused together, my chest to her back, my front to the curve of her ass. It’s what’s smart and responsible. It’s what I would do if this were another time, and another girl, and another lifetime. But all I have is now, and I can’t see beyond the vision of her tight frame nestled into mine. I can’t feel anything but my body fitting around her like a glove, and her hands sliding their way up to my neck before fisting my hair.
She turns her head towards mine, and her breath fans over my neck like a whispered kiss. I pull her closer, and my lips just barely graze her forehead. She doesn’t flinch, just keeps moving with me, eyes closed. My lips move down to brush the soft velvet of her eyelid, then her warm cheek. And when she doesn’t make a move in protest, space and time diminish under the weight of this moment. This single moment that could very well destroy everything, yet crushes all consequence into a speck of dust
too infinitesimal to even acknowledge.
My lips find hers like they’ve known them forever. Like they’ve never kissed another set of lips that were this soft, this sweet. They submit to me, and my tongue touches hers, gently at first, as we learn each other’s taste. Then we’re all hunger and passion as Ally turns her body to face mine, allowing my mouth to connect wholly with hers.
We communicate without words, settling for throaty moans and grasps of clothing and hair. I push her up against the mirror, cradling her face so I can taste her deeper. She brings a thigh up to my hip and I gladly grip it, lifting her body up with my palms. Ally wraps her legs around my waist, locking them at the ankles, and giving my hands access to the skin revealed by her gathered dress. I should be gentle and take this slow, but I’m starving for her. Too famished to think about stopping now or coming up for air.
My fingers digging into her ass, I grind my rock-hard length into her thinly sheathed sex. I fuck her through cotton and lace, while my mouth makes love to her jaw and neck. Damn these clothes; I want them off. I need to have her skin on mine; I need to make her moan from more than just my kiss. I need my lips and tongue to taste the parts of her that are so damp and humid that I can feel the heat through my slacks.
“Wait.”
I can’t tell if it’s a whisper or whine, or even just my imagination. Jiminy Cricket and his cock-blocking ass can go to hell.
“Wait, Justice. Wait! Stop!”
Cold water floods my veins, extinguishing the white heat burning in my groin. I slowly place Ally down on her feet and take a step back, so she can straighten her clothing into their once perfectly pressed state. So she can erase any evidence that I was between her legs, reducing her to a disheveled mess of ravenous tongue, frenzied hands and impassioned moans.
I close my eyes for a beat longer than a blink and exhale my frustration, trying to will my pulse to slow. Ally is frantically trying to smooth her hair down. She touches her lips and stills, as if the memory of them merged with mine is just now pouring in.