Authors: Katrina Alba
I look back up to his sea colored eyes pleading for me to answer. “Okay.”
* * *
Time passes agonizingly
slow the next two days, but finally, I’m walking down Leah Boulevard looking down at the coffee shop napkin in my hand. I smile as I walk toward the address, remembering the beautiful bouquets of flowers delivered to work for me the last two days. The first had a note that simply said,
Counting down the hours
. The second day there was a beautiful heart shaped card with a handwritten message inside, which made me snort when I read it.
You give me a boner in my heart
A heart on
An affection erection
P.S. You give me the other kind, too.
Counting down the minutes.
—Grant
Thinking of it now makes me giggle. I nervously rub my thumb over the napkin as I walk—just as I have been ever since Grant tucked it into my hand. I don’t need the napkin. I’ve looked at it no less than twenty thousand times in the past forty-eight hours. I have the address memorized. I’m on my way to meet Grant for dinner. He insisted he pick me up, but I warned him I would be coming from work and wasn’t entirely sure I would be on time. Never being able to make definite plans is a hazard of my profession. He agreed after some arm twisting to meet me and wrote this address down.
I reapplied red lipstick before leaving work. Wearing a cream wrap dress with a red belt, I switched to red fuck me pumps just before I left. I come to a halt in front of the address written on the napkin. I look up at the sign. Fred’s? I fumble to look at the napkin, thinking I cannot possibly be at the right address. Twenty-four hundred, Leah Blvd. Yep, it’s right. Looking back up at the sign in confusion, I shrug and decide to go inside.
From the outside, Fred’s looks like a little taco stand. When I enter, I see the storefront is misleading. This place is actually quite large inside and more of a bar. The entire place is patches of bright colors. There are pool tables along the back wall and video games to my right. The center of the room has a full circle, tiki-type bar. There is even straw at the top, making the bar look like a hut.
I am still looking around when a hand grasps mine. Usually, uninvited human contact would startle me, but I can sense it’s Grant. I feel his soft hands glide over mine followed by the slight scratch of a callus. I turn to face him and breathe in the scent of fresh body wash as if he had just stepped out of the shower.
I try to act casual, but I feel my entire face light up with the smile he evokes from me. “Hi.”
“Hey, I’m glad you found the place.”
“I wasn’t sure if I was in the right place, to be honest. I wasn’t expecting…” I pause looking for the right words. “Actually, I wasn’t sure what to expect. What is this place? I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it.”
“Oh, Alyssa, Alyssa, Alyssa. You have just stumbled into the gem of the city.” He has a twinkle in his eye as he looks around and then takes me in. “You look gorgeous.” It is the simplest compliment, but those few words make me feel like I could move mountains. “Okay, I know this is an unusual place for a first date, but let me explain why I chose this place. First, they have everything great dates are made of—and second, this isn’t technically our first date.” He sounds like a little kid in a candy store. It’s adorable.
Grant’s smile is contagious. “What makes a great date?” I ask him genuinely curious what he thinks.
“Good food, fun atmosphere, and someone you want to share those things with.” He winks. It’s cheesy, but I have always liked guys who wink. Maybe it’s because I am incapable. It’s true. I, Alyssa K. Silver, cannot wink. When I try, I look like I’m having a stroke. Regardless, I have always loved when guys wink.
Many beers, a few Tarantula shots, the best tacos I’ve ever had, countless games of Golden Tee and hours of laughs later, I realize I am on the best first-second date I’ve ever been on. Grant is like a big kid in a suit with a fancy job.
I’ve decided to top the night off with one of Fred’s incredible swirl margaritas. I’m twirling the straw, mesmerized by the combining of the icy raspberry and orange mango goodness in front of me. I look up at Grant just smiling at me. I smile back involuntarily. I don’t think anyone could
not
smile back at Grant Kennedy. There is just something enchanting about him. “You know, you aren’t what I expected.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Definitely a good thing. Honestly, I expected to be meeting you at a fancy, stuffy restaurant where I would have four forks and menu items I can’t pronounce. This was much more fun.”
“That would usually be my protocol for a date. But if I'm honest, it’s usually a one-time deal. I wanted to have fun with you. I wasn’t sure if this was going to go over. A lot of women would have turned up their nose at this place, but not you. This is probably the first date I’ve actually had fun on and that didn’t involve a bedroom.”
“Ditto,” I say before I seductively put the straw in my drink between my lips. We have had so much fun together the past few hours. I’m not sure what just made the switch flip, maybe it was the alcohol flowing through my veins, but I want to touch him. I close my lips around the top of the straw and move it into my mouth while holding his eyes. “Mmmm.” I make a small sound of appreciation and I see his breath hitch. “This might be the best margarita I have ever had. I like the fat straws so you can suck up every drop.” I’m teasing him. I know it. I am loving it.
* * *
We kiss on
the walk out to catch a cab. We make out in the cab on the ride to his place. We devour each other up against his front door while he fumbles with the key. He catches us both from falling as we stumble into his mini-mansion. The light in the foyer must be movement sensitive because it flashes on when we come in.
Nothing is going to stop us at this point. The door slams shut and I’m up against it in an instant. I close my eyes so tight while he nuzzles and kisses my neck. I feel like I’m trying to save this all to memory in my haze of booze. I don’t know if this is going to be a one-time thing or a lifetime thing, but I want to remember every detail. So I clamp my eyes shut and commit to memory the feel of every touch.
He stops. “Why are you stopping?” I ask breathlessly.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes to concern etched on his face. “Are you sure you want to do this? You look—pained.”
I kiss him gently and then look directly into his eyes. “If you stop this right now, you will
never
see me again.”
He intertwines his fingers with mine and raises my hand to his mouth. He lays a sweet kiss on the back of my hand and then pulls me forward to follow him. I notice his house is much tamer than the one the party was at, which was his parent’s home. I follow him up a beautiful, but not overdone, wooden staircase. It curves slightly to a landing upstairs. Two dark wood doors open to his master bedroom. It’s not grand or a bachelor pad. Rather, his bedroom is cozy.
I’m taking in his room when he drops my hand. He lights a few candles on an armoire before he walks back over to me. Moving my hair from my shoulder and neck, he leans into my ear. “I’ve never done this before and certainly never here,” he confesses.
He leaves a trail of kisses down my neck before he does the most shocking thing of all. The remaining hours of the night, Grant slowly undressed me, teased my entire body, and made love to me. I have had some amazing sex in my life, but never had I felt so cherished. I was wrong about Grant Kennedy, so very wrong. Amongst the passion, he unraveled my cold, black heart that night.
After the night
of our date, Grant and I spent every spare moment we had together. He sends me flowers at work every day with sweet or funny and inappropriate notes attached. The inappropriate ones are my favorite. I love how Grant makes me laugh, and he’s brought out the playful side in me. I didn’t have a very fun childhood, other than when I was with Whitney, but I think he’s somehow made up for it. In the past two months of dating Grant, I’ve been ice skating, had a picnic, and made snow cones with a machine he bought me when he realized I didn’t have one. Grant said everyone should have a personal snow cone maker.
I’ve spent so much of my life worrying and trying to make something of myself. I think I forgot to look up once in a while and ended up missing out on a lot. Grant reminds me to look up. He is so carefree. I envy him. He just lives life and makes it look effortless. I like who I am when I’m with him.
Two months after our first real date, I was finally coming up to a break I had planned into my schedule as a breather after taking my boards. I let Grant talk me into spending the last weekend before starting back at the hospital with him in Vegas to celebrate.
“Pink or black?” I ask Whitney, holding up two lingerie sets. She is sitting on my bed next to the suitcase I’m packing fiddling with a picture on the nightstand of Grant and me.
“Both.” She shrugs. “You never know.”
“You’re right, and that’s why I keep you around,” I tease. “You’re so insightful.”
“Alyssa, I kind of hate you. But you should get used to it. I’m pretty sure every girl within a hundred mile radius is jealous of you.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, my God. For a smart girl, you can be pretty dense. Grant Kennedy doesn’t date! He’s a playboy! But you come onto the scene and bam! He has an insta-girlfriend. You’re going away for the weekend with him. I was right! Up next is marriage and babies born sexy right out of the womb! Meanwhile, I’ll be a thirty-year-old spinster in a few years. It’s really unfair,” she whines.
“Hey, maybe he has a hot cousin I can hook you up with.”
“Nope, I’ve known of his family my whole life. There is only one male cousin named Ralph. My parents and his parents used to play doubles. Ralph used to chase me around and try to kiss me. The adults would never stop him either. They thought it was cute. He gave me a present for my fourth birthday. He’d wrapped it himself. It was full of worms! The next year he got his gum stuck in my hair when we were five. They had to cut it down almost to my head. I was called brillo head for two years before it finally grew out.”
“That’s what happened?” I try to hold in my laughter, but it’s no use. “That happened right before I met you. I always thought you just had a bad haircut,” I say through my outright laughter.
She jumps up off the bed, flailing her arms. “It’s not funny. It was a traumatic experience! I haven’t cut my hair short since. People chewing gum gives me anxiety!”
I double over holding my stomach and laughing. “I’m sorry, but it’s comical.” I apologize when I can speak. “Okay, so you and Ralph won’t be dating anytime soon.” I smile. “What about Keith? He’s got this mysterious cop thing going on, and his body is…”
“Ew, no. Gross. Make it stop! Keith is like a brother to me. Don’t ever talk about him like that again.”
“Okay, well, I’m sure there is someone out there for you. You just haven’t found him yet.”
“I hope you’re right. I’d hate to become one of those pathetic women who go around trying to get married men to leave their wives for her.” She pretends to shiver. “Like Marilyn, my mom’s pathetic spinster friend.”
“You will never be Marilyn. I won’t let you.”
“Homicide pact?”
“Yes, homicide pact.” I laugh. “I will shoot you if you become Marilyn—put you out of your misery.”
* * *
When I agreed
to go to Vegas, I told Grant I would only go if we went with the full experience. No private jets. I’ve always loved the airport, and I feel like it’s part of the adventure. To my surprise, he actually agreed.
We had cocktails on the plane and I snuggled into his shoulder for the short flight. I should have made him agree to a typical hotel room. I give him the evil eye when we are ushered up to the penthouse suite. He just gives me his little kid smile and shrugs.
I have to admit the room is incredible. You could live here. It has everything you could possibly need and it’s twice the size of my apartment. There’s a glorious view of the strip in the front room and an even more breathtaking view of the pool from the master bedroom. Everything in this room is decorated elegantly in pearl and gold.
I am looking around while Grant tips the gentleman who brought our bags up. Looking out at the pool from the bedroom, I hear the front door to the suite close. Simultaneously, I feel hands come around my waist from behind pulling me into his body. “What would you like to do tonight? We can do anything you want,” he says nuzzling into my neck.
I smile from ear to ear. “I want to gamble. I never gamble. I want to shoot crabs, play Blackjack, and maybe even some slots.”
I feel him chuckle into my neck. “What’s so funny?”
“You want to shoot
craps,
babe, but if you want, we can have crab for dinner.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ve never gambled before, ya smart-ass.”
“Speaking of asses, there is one in this very room I’d like to take a bite out of.” The next thing I know, Grant is kneeling on the floor and has spun me to face him. Looking down into his eyes, I see nothing but trouble. Good thing he is rich, because he will need to replace the skirt he just effortlessly shredded from my bottom half. I should be infuriated that my favorite skirt is in tatters on the floor, but all I can feel is the heat of the fireworks he’s just lit inside me and are about to explode.
He places my hands on his shoulders for balance, never once breaking eye contact as he peels my thigh high nylons down first my left and then my right leg. I’m reflecting on the fact he can go from animalistic rage, tearing off my skirt in one instant, and be gentle in the very next, carefully removing my nylons. I am mesmerized, watching and feeling him running his hands down my thighs and then the length of my legs, all the way to my toes. It catches me by surprise when in the next instant he is back to his rough self, destroying my panties as he discards the now worthless shredded cloth on the floor.
Being with Grant is exciting. I never know what is coming next. It is as if he is sexually bi-polar. He is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde all in the span of a minute. The lion and the lamb all wrapped up to make nothing short of perfection.
Grasping each hip in one of his hands, he leans forward and places a gentle kiss on my hipbone. “Your skin smells so sweet.” I shiver as he kisses his way a millimeter at a time down lower and lower. He stops and looks up at me with his wolfish grin. This grin always means something good is to come and yet somehow it makes me quiver, almost in fear.
Slowly, he pushes my legs slightly apart. Placing his hands back together, he runs his pointer fingers down my landing strip. I’m expecting him to curl them under to enter me, but he doesn’t stop at my opening. Instead, he separates his hands at my entrance, teasing me as he runs them along the crease of my inner thighs, making me gasp and clench my legs together. It tickles and makes me writhe. He spreads each of his hands across each of my cheeks. Before I know what’s happening, he pulls me up, spreading me as he lifts me to him. The underneath of each of my knees come to rest on either of his shoulders and his mouth lands in the center of me. I groan and he runs his hands down my legs, effectively wrapping them around his neck. One soft touch of his tongue and I’m bucking, fucking his face involuntarily.
Thank God, he reached his arms up behind my back because he was supporting me as I arched my back from the pure bliss I felt when he warmed my core. It is a blur of color and pleasure in my brain as I feel a soft bed underneath my back when he finally lays me down. Grant has lost all control and so have I. He is harsh, devouring me, making me cry out as he eats me. I’ve always thought that was a funny thing to call oral sex, but eating me is precisely what he was doing.
Suddenly, I was glad we were in the top suite with no neighbors sharing our walls. The noises he was evoking from me I was certain sounded like someone was being murdered in our room.
I scream with each explosive orgasm and still he is unrelenting, continuing to flick my clit with his tongue, inducing yet another orgasm, mere seconds later.
When I finally find my voice, I beg him. “Fuck me!” is all I can manage to get out. With a final flick of his tongue, I detonate once more and feel him slam into me mid-explosion. He remains in me unmoving for a moment.
Just as my feet touch back down on planet Earth, he pulls out of me. I start to object but am cut off when he swiftly flips me onto my stomach. My shirt is torn clean from my body a second later. I am left in my black lacy bra and matching garter belt, the clips of it hang down either side of my legs. It’s oddly even more erotic to have these pieces still on than when I am completely naked.
Grant kisses my shoulder blade and then runs his hand from my shoulder ever so softly down my back. This action is the calm before the storm. When he gets past my lower back, it’s all over. The caress is gone and a deafening crack sounds through the room as his open palm lands on my right cheek so hard I see stars. All at once, he is inside me again in a pattern of tenderness and then punishing.
When he reaches around, I’m lost again. I think I might actually tear apart at the seams this time. He picks up his pace when he can tell I’m spiraling. There is no conversation, just expletives and cries reverberating through the air. When he finally stills, he collapses against my back, kissing my shoulder blade once more.
Fireworks.
* * *
I throw on
a little red, slinky number and red peep toes because, well, this is Las Vegas and I’m gambling tonight! I have never gambled before and I am actually excited, even though it isn’t in my personality to take risks. Grant seems to bring out the lighthearted, fun side of me. I mean, the fact I’m in Vegas in the first place when I should be preparing for my new position says a lot.
We ride down the elevator, hand in hand, and both with a couple of goofy, satisfied grins on our faces. I feel like a million dollars when we step out of the elevator onto the casino floor.
The alcohol is flowing all night and we miss our dinner reservation at some fancy restaurant because I’m too engulfed at the Blackjack table to leave. I’m up two-thousand dollars. I know it’s nothing to Grant, but to me, it’s huge. He sits, patiently advising me as I play.
The dealer always looks to me like he is pulling some tricks. He is constantly waving his hands around as he deals like he’s some sort of magician. He lays an ace down in front of me. After dealing the other two players at the table their cards, he lays a king of hearts down in front of me. Grant just smiles at me knowingly and nods.
When I finally walk away, I’m up a little over three-grand. I don’t know what gets into me, probably the mass amount of vodka flowing through my veins, but I walk Grant over to the roulette table and confidently place it all on black, twenty-four. “What are you doing?” He chides.
As soon as the chips leave my hands, I can feel a panic well up and nearly choke me. “I can’t watch this,” I say turning my back to the table. A few others walk past me and place their bets. I block out everything around me watching Grant’s face for clues. A minute later, his serious face turns into a frown and my heart sinks.
“Well, crap. It was fun while it lasted at least.” I laugh.
But then his frown turns into the mischievous smile of his I love so much. “Don’t quit your day job just yet, but you can pay off your student loans with the chunk of change you just won.”
“Huh? I don’t have student loans. I went to school on a scholarship. Wait, what? I won?” I just about scream. I swing around and see the guy running the table waving to security. “I don’t get it, what’s going on?”
“Alyssa, you bet thirty-five to one odds. They’ll take you to get settled. The table can’t pay out this kind of winnings.”
The shock of what has just happened hits me. ‘Thirty-five to one odds’ is repeating in my head. “Holy shit, over a hundred thousand dollars? That can’t be right. Oh, my God. Oh, my God!” I throw my arms around Grant’s neck and he picks me up in a hug. When he places me back on the ground, it hits me again. “Oh, my God! That’s a helluva lot of money!”
“Yeah, it’s some serious beginner’s luck you’re having there.”
After I get everything squared away with the house, we go back out to the casino floor. “Let’s hit the slots!”
“Uh, oh. This is how the addiction starts,” he teases.
“Hey, I can afford it.”
* * *
I am so
comfortable, I don’t want to move a single muscle. I lie in bed and smile with my eyes still closed when I remember where I am. The events of last night start to seep into my memory. The casino. I won more money than I can even comprehend. We went to a cabaret show and I got a lap dance. Wait, was it a Cabaret show or did we go to a strip club? Apparently, I drank entirely too much last night. I remember us practically crawling back to our room. Mostly, I remember laughing, so much so my ribs are sore today. We had so much fun together last night.