Dirty Sex (4 page)

before we started groping like teenagers again. The blood in my head

was quickly draining and pounding through my hands, my clit; even

my mouth tasted metallic. Maybe that was from her teeth. She smelled

like girl. I love the smell of girl. Slightly perfumed, like an afterthought

and the way skin tastes. I wanted to fuck her right there.

It was another two streets before I stopped at the window of a

store. Done with waiting, I pushed Andi back against it, yanked her

skirt up around her waist, and pushed her panties aside. Her mouth was

in the open collar of my shirt sucking, biting, so I’d remember in the

morning. Each wet connection to my skin made my clit twitch with

need. When I buried two fingers in her pussy, she bit down hard. My

thumb found her distended clit and started the smooth beat of pressure

and release making her slump forward against my chest. With my other

hand, I tilted her chin up and took her mouth. I like to kiss when I fuck.

Hopefully, we’d get to finish before someone found us. One of her legs

wrapped around my thigh, opening her wider. I slid a third finger in.

“Fuck. Yeah, like that.” She encouraged me so I went deeper.

“More.” And deeper. I ground my thumb into her clit, guided by the

forward jerk of her hips. The skirt was almost up to her tits and she’d

gotten my shirt unbuttoned somehow. With every thrust into her cunt,

my hand got wetter. The moisture spread down my arm slowly, the

strands of wetness stretching between my naked stomach and her

thighs.

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AShley BArtlett

With a final grind, her body electrified and shuddered before

collapsing with a whispered, “Fuck.”

Carefully, I withdrew my fingers, flexing my hand. My boxer

briefs were soaked and the material was pressed insolently against my

aching clit.

“How close are we to your place?” I closed my shirt with trembling

fingers. She pulled her skirt down and straightened her top.

“Close.” Andi smiled and started strutting down the street again,

forcing me to stare at her scantily clad ass.

I stayed a step behind to admire the view.

• 30 •

Dirty Sex

Before dawn, I slid from the bed, leaving the sleeping woman

without looking back. On the way to the door, I picked up

the remnants of my clothing. Everything was sore. My nipples hurt,

my thighs, even my face, and I wasn’t sure how that was possible. I

remembered drinking a lot after we fucked and then I remembered

fucking some more until the alcohol wore off. I didn’t remember

sleeping.

I let myself out onto the street. It wasn’t quite cold, the way summer

mornings are where the lack of heat is refreshing. I started walking

toward the Capitol after figuring out where the hell I was. There was no

way Reese and Austin were still in Sacramento. And without my car,

I was fucked. I thumbed through my cell until I found Austin. After it

went to voice mail, I hung up. Carpooling to the bar suddenly seemed

like a terrible idea. There was a light rail station near Naked Lounge.

Maybe I would grab some coffee at Naked and then catch the light rail.

It would at least get me within fifteen miles of home. Great. I could call

home, “Hi, Mom. Got stranded after hooking up at a bar. Want to pick

me up?” My phone rang.

“’Lo.”

“Coop.” It was Austin. “I’m so glad you called.” A sentiment

I shared. “You woke me up in time to get out without morning

awkwardness.”

“Please tell me that means you’re still in Sac.” I was guessing

Reese still had my car and was home in her warm little bed. If Austin

was still downtown, I would at least have a buddy to catch a ride with.

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AShley BArtlett

“You know it. I’m on, umm, Nineteenth and P.”

“I’m Seventeenth and N. Meet me at Naked?”

“Yeah, I figured. Do you have your car?”

“I gave the keys to Reese.” Something I would never do again. She

probably crashed it just to spite me. I had no idea what I was thinking.

“Damn, we’re kind of fucked, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess we’ll figure it out. Maybe we should call Ryan.”

“Maybe. I’ll see you at Naked, ’kay?”

“Yeah.”

Five blocks later, I stood in front of the coffee shop. The sky

was just turning the blue gray of morning. Despite the chilly walk

and the intoxicated all-nighter, I was pretty awake. Austin wasn’t

inside yet so I leaned against the lamppost outside to wait. Naked was

a converted Victorian like most of the buildings in midtown. With

the exception of two bored employees, the place was dead. I heard

pounding footsteps behind me and turned in time to have Austin half

jump, half crash into me.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said all excited and sarcastic.

“Darlin’.”

“Sweetness, what did you do last night? You smell like lesbian sex

and scotch.” Aus backed away like I offended him.

“Whatever you did to smell like boy sex, but more.” I held the

door for him.

“Uh-huh.” He grinned at me just a little too knowingly.

We got coffee and went out to the little yard on the side of the

building. It was shielded from the sidewalk by a high fence and a couple

overly huge trees. There was a chick in the corner smoking a slim cigar

and drinking coffee. Reese.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Aus said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Drinking coffee.” Rather than sounding sarcastic, Reese made

the words sound sexy and aloof, like some exotic drink I’d never try

and would always want to.

“Reese, honey, tell me you went home with that beautiful thing

last night,” Austin probed.

“Maybe.” Ambiguous. Thanks for that, Reese.

“You did not,” Austin said breathily as he sat down.

“I did.” She merely raised an eyebrow at Austin’s incredulous

expression.

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Dirty Sex

“I always took you for the type to stick around for breakfast.” I

yanked out the chair holding Reese’s feet and collapsed into it. “Careful.

You don’t want to pick up my womanizing habits.” If I said it before

her, it was better for everyone.

“Not everyone fucks the women they go home with.”

“Actually, they do,” I responded after a microsecond of

contemplation.

“Come on, Reese,” Aus crooned, “details.”

Reese looked him dead in the eye. “I told her I wasn’t going

to sleep with her. We spent the night drinking wine and discussing

philosophy.”

“Bullshit,” I said immediately.

“Fine.” She smiled at me coldly. “It wasn’t philosophy, but we did

stay up all night talking.”

“Fucking,” Austin whispered to me.

“Fucking,” I whispered back.

“I suppose whatever you did for the last six hours allows you to

criticize my behavior?” She made it sound like she was asking both of

us. She wasn’t. Just me.

“Don’t act so high and mighty, princess.”

“Sweetheart,” she said like the bitch she was, “how does your face

feel?”

What the hell did that mean? It was especially weird because my

face hurt like a bitch. Like I’d been punched in the eye. Did I get in a

fight or something the night before?

“Oh. My. God.” Austin jumped out of his chair. He grabbed my

head and turned it so I was looking directly at him.

“What the fuck?” I tried to push him away. Reese was laughing

her ass off. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Come with me.” Austin dragged me back inside the coffee shop.

He opened the door of the bathroom and shoved me inside.

“Seriously, what the fuck?”

“That.” He squared my shoulders in front of the mirror. And then

I remembered.

“I got my eyebrow pierced.” I told his reflection in the mirror.

Apparently, I will do just about anything to impress a girl. That was a

whole new side of myself I wasn’t aware of. Not a pleasant realization.

“And you had no idea.” He was absolutely gleeful.

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AShley BArtlett

I leaned in close to the scarred mirror to inspect my eye. The

piercing was red and a little crusty. Gross.

“I’m never drinking again.”

“Of course not, sweetness.” Austin patted my back reassuringly,

then steered me out of the bathroom and back to our table. Reese was

still sitting there snickering.

“You guys ready to go?” I allowed my frustration with myself to

bleed into my tone. They nodded. “Where’s my car?”

“The street.” Reese nodded in the general direction, which made

her hair flutter provocatively around her face. We definitely needed to

leave.

❖

Bed was good. That was my only thought as I fell into mine. I

didn’t take off my jeans or shower. I just crashed. My wonderful sleep

was interrupted throughout the morning by my phone vibrating. The

noise became increasingly insistent until I shut it off. My mom was

downstairs making the normal morning kitchen noises. There were

voices too. I blocked it all out in favor of sleep. I needed to get my own

apartment.

I was asleep again when my door flung open, and before I could

open my eyes, a body landed on me, followed by one, two more. Ryan,

Carson, and Derek, the bastards. It was Saturday morning. How could

I forget? My mother liked to make breakfast, and she liked to make

enough to feed a small army. So every Saturday morning, about twenty

of our closest friends descended on the blue house on the corner.

“I hate all of you,” I told them without opening my eyes. “And

your mothers, and your future children, and the mothers of your future

children. And I hope they all die painful deaths.” They responded to my

tirade by bouncing up and down on me like six-year-olds.

“Come on, Cooper.” Derek.

“Yeah, Coop.” Ryan.

“Miss Vivian Cooper.” Carson. I hated my name.

“None of you guys will live to see twenty-two.” I curled up in a

ball. “And don’t call me that.”

“The way I see it is this,” Ryan put it down for me. “Your mother

is making breakfast. You need to wake up and shower.”

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Dirty Sex

“Definitely shower,” confirmed Derek.

“So you can do all of that on your own,” Ryan went on.

“Or we can help you out,” Carson finished.

“If you guys don’t get the hell out, I will kill you.” I opened one

eye. “Slowly.”

“Sounds like she needs help.” I wasn’t sure how Ryan drew that

conclusion.

“Don’t even think—” But they were already going. The three

of them wrapped me in my sheet, despite my kicking and yelling and

empty threats, and carried me into the bathroom. Unceremoniously, I

was dropped into the tub. It didn’t feel good.

“Get her shoes off, Derek,” Ryan directed. I didn’t even know I

was still wearing my shoes. Derek yanked them off my feet and tossed

them over his shoulder while Carson and Ryan held me down. I began

screaming creative obscenities at them. They turned on the cold water

full blast and ran out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind them.

By the time I freed myself from the cold, wet sheet, it was pointless to

chase them.

I made future plans to make their lives hell as I turned the water

to hot and stripped off my soaked clothes. I’d start with stealing Ryan’s

stash and his little pot plant called “Peggy Sue.” For a moment, I

considered letting Derek’s dog out of his backyard. No, that was too

mean. The dog wasn’t that smart. It would be better to take Austin’s

gay porn and poorly hide it in Derek’s room where the housekeeper

could find it. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. For Carson, I would

siphon the gas out of his car while he was at work. By the time I went

downstairs, I was almost calm.

The kitchen table was crowded with plates of hot food and twenty-

year-olds. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, Derek and Carson

both looked me straight in the eye. They quickly turned the opposite

direction when I put my finger to my lips. Both were probably hoping I

would punch Ryan instead of them. I did. Right in the kidney.

“Ohh, you bitch,” he yelled at my feet. They were all he could see

from his bent over position.

“Language, Ryan.” My mom didn’t even turn from the stove to

admonish him.

“Sorry, Mrs. C.” He straightened up with what I imagined to be a

little tear in one eye.

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AShley BArtlett

“You had it coming, asshole,” I whispered.

“I know.” He at least tried to smother the grin. “But, damn, bro.

In the kidney?”

“Both of you. Language.” This time she did turn around.

“Sorry,” we said simultaneously while giving each other the how-

the-hell-did-she-hear-us look.

“Breakfast is going to get cold. Sit down.” My mom set another

platter on the table. Pancakes.

Ryan and I sat down with everyone else and started filling our

plates. Ryan sandwiched himself between my sister and Austin. I joined

my dad and Carson, who looked like he might wet himself.

“I’m sorry.” Carson leaned over and started whimpering. “It

seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I didn’t even look at him. “You’ll get yours.”