The American Lover (21 page)

M
ore alcohol.

That was the answer. 

That’s where I'd been going wrong, never having more than one small glass of wine in my efforts to keep a lid on everything. But all that had made me do was over-think things and worry about all the stupid little details in my life.

So now I was going to let go, put the past behind me and live in the moment.

Plenty of alcohol would help ease my transition from boring, mousey little Faith, into the bring-it-on, fun-loving girl I was determined to be for the party at Harry’s place. I’d given myself a makeover, experimenting with a lot more makeup, as well as squeezing myself into a short skimpy skirt and a tiny halter neck top, breaking the stupid rule that you shouldn't have your boobs and legs out on show at the same time. Why the hell shouldn't you display your best assets, when you wanted to send out an unmistakeable message that you were up for some fun? I was also hoping more alcohol would have the added benefit of numbing my feet, seeing as I was attempting to wear high heels to complete the look, although I didn't expect they’d last the evening.  But that didn't matter, as long as I created that all important first initial impression to catch someone’s eye. 

Since I’d got back from the States, I’d not been back to work.  Instead, I’d got myself signed off sick, after making up some story about job-related stress, because I had no intention of returning to the office for the last few weeks before it closed. All my project work had been completed before I'd left for the States, so I had no qualms about leaving so suddenly.

I didn't want to think about work and I didn’t want to think about either Drew or Caleb.

I didn't want to think, full stop. I just wanted to blot everything out and concentrate on doing stupid silly things, such as partying. 

And for the time being, I could do just that, seeing as I was in the fortunate position of not having to worry financially. I'd always been so fricking careful and sensible about money, but now it was time to blow some of it and just have some fun.

And sex was fun.  I loved having sex, as affirmed by my recent experience with Caleb. He’d been useful in proving that I was ready to move on and sleep with other guys, but nothing more than that, I told myself, as I grabbed another glass of wine while I surveyed the guys at Harry’s party. It was pathetic, that someone my age had only had two lovers in her entire life, so it was high time I got on with rectifying that situation and adding to my tally.

So, who should I launch myself at? None of the guys here would have been invited if they hadn't got Harry’s seal of approval as being at least half way decent, so I knew I had to be on to a good thing, whoever I chose, even if none of them came close to… I pulled myself up short
. Don't compare. Don't even think about anyone else.
Drinking helped blur some of the edges, stopping me from being so stupidly fussy about which guy I was going to take back to my place to fuck.

Fuck.

I liked that word. Fuck was a good strong Anglo Saxon word. Nothing namby-pamby about it.

No stupid romance or love crap required. No complications. All I needed was a guy willing and able to supply me with the required part of his anatomy, to take me to that place where I could forget about everything except pure physical pleasure, to numb myself to all of life’s shittiest of shitty complications. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Faith?” Harry frowned at me. “You’re looking and acting differently tonight, you're not your usual self at all.” 

“Don't say that as if it’s a bad thing, Harry. I’ve realised I've been burying myself in work for far too long, so I’ve decided to just kick back for a while, at least until I’ve worked out exactly what I want to do next.” All I’d told her about the job in America was that it hadn't worked out, without going into any details. “Just help me find a nice guy to chill with, seeing as you’ve invited so many of them along tonight, and I’m spoilt for choice.”

“Faith sweetheart, you're acting a bit weird. Are you really sure you're ready for this?” she asked worriedly.

“You’re the one that keeps telling me it’s exactly what I need, so I don't know why you're being such a mother hen now,” I exclaimed in exasperation. “Just do me a favour, and make sure I don't make a complete idiot of myself by picking out the wrong guy - my gaydar isn’t as finely tuned as yours.”

“Okay, but just take things slowly, alright?” she reluctantly agreed. “Don't jump into anything you're not comfortable with.”

“Message received and understood.  Now, come on, point me in the right direction. What about him, over there, the blonde one?” I wasn’t wearing my glasses, but from what I could see, he looked nothing like either Drew or Caleb, which made him perfect as far as I was concerned. Average looking, average height, an average kind of guy.  Nothing special, nothing to dislike. That would do. He would do.

“You mean Will?  Hmm, I don't know him that well, he’s only here because Jack asked if he could bring him along. From what I’ve heard Will’s very charming, but also a bit of a player, as I gather he’s worked his way through most of the female staff at the airline. Maybe you should steer clear of him,” she worried.

“Nah, he sounds perfect seeing as I’m not looking for boyfriend material. Come on, introduce me to him,” I insisted. The man-whore type. He’d certainly be up for just a quick fuck.

And as he noticed us looking over at him, Will smiled and raised his glass at me. So it seemed he was interested, which was a start. Why had I been so worried? What had been the big deal about finding a willing bloke? This was going to be far easier than I’d thought. I gulped down the rest of my wine, then poured myself another, before making my way over for Harry to make the introductions.

And it was as simple as that. Not much more than half an hour later, after a little bit of flirty chatting, a little bit of dirty dancing and a rather sloppy kiss, Will and I were making our way downstairs to my flat.
Caleb’s a much better kisser…Oh you stupid cow! No comparisons, remember?
Thanks to the copious amounts of wine I'd poured down my neck, everything was nice and blurry, although I was having a little trouble coping with my high heels on the stairs, so I clutched onto Will’s arm.

“Oops, steady on there,” he grinned as he slid his arm around my waist to support me.

We made it safely down to my doorway, where I fumbled in my bag to find my keys. Then I froze, as Will moved behind me and pushed me up hard against the wall, then slid his hands under my top to grope my boobs.

“You have really great tits, Fiona,” Will murmured as he squeezed them very hard, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck as he trapped me there, rubbing his hard-on against my backside. I tried to stifle my rising panic, because this felt all wrong, not nice at all, certainly not sexy, and nothing at all like it had with Caleb.

“My name’s Faith, actually, and just hold on a minute.” I tried to push him away and wriggle free, but the more I struggled, the more firmly he held me in place.

“Mmm, like things a bit rough do you, eh? Fine by me, a bit of resistance just makes things more interesting,” Will chuckled, running his hand under my skirt.

“
No
…” I tried again to move away from his pawing hands, but I couldn’t get away, and even in my befuddled state, alarm bells began to sound.

“Sshh, just relax, it’ll be okay, baby,” Will continued, as he grabbed the cheeks of my bottom. I felt exposed because I was only wearing a stupid little lace thong under my very short skirt, and I started really panicking, as I couldn’t see how I was going to get away from him.

“Don’t… Please…
Stop
…” I begged as I struggled, but Will just ignored me.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” a familiar deep voice suddenly growled from somewhere behind me.

It couldn’t be, could it? Was I so drunk that I was hallucinating?

“Caleb?” I gasped, as I tried to look round.

“Excuse me?” Will also turned round in surprise, although he still kept hold of me. “What is your fucking problem here, mate?”

“My problem here,
mate
, is that the lady just asked you to stop, and yet you still seem to have your dirty fucking hands on her,” Caleb ground out.

I looked up to see Caleb’s furious face as he glowered down at Will.  None of this made any sense whatsoever. What on earth was he doing here?

“Yeah? So what are you going to do about it?” Will pulled himself up to his full height, which was a pretty stupid thing to do, as he was nowhere near as tall as Caleb.

“Well, if you don't back the fuck away from her, I guess I'm gonna have to make you,” Caleb threatened, as he leaned into Will’s face aggressively.

My head was spinning, and suddenly I knew I was about to puke.

So I did. All over Will’s feet.

It wasn’t intentional, but I had little control by that point. I watched in horror as my vomit splattered all over his shoes.

“For fuck’s sake, that’s disgusting! You know what? The stupid little prick tease is all yours, you’re welcome to her,” Will yelled as he backed away, and then quickly headed back upstairs towards Harry’s flat.

“Great aim, Faith,” Caleb murmured, as he grabbed the key out of my hand, opened the front door, then scooped me up to carry me in. I winced as he slammed the door behind us with his foot - my head felt as though it was about to explode.

“What the fuck have you done to yourself, Faith? I really hate the way you’re looking tonight.”

“Nice to see you too, Caleb.  What are you doing here anyway?” I slurred, with my head slumped against his shoulder, as he carried me into the bathroom and then unceremoniously dumped me on the floor next to the toilet.

“Seems I got here just in time judging by the state you're in. What the hell were you thinking, getting yourself into that kind of a situation?” Caleb practically growled.

“Don't know why you're here. Nothing to do with you,” I mumbled, as I curled up into a tiny ball, my head pounding as the room spun sickeningly.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Faith, because whatever you do happens to be of great concern to me,” he murmured, as he hunkered down and gently brushed the hair away from my face.  “Look, you just concentrate on puking up the rest of that alcohol to get it out of your system, because you won’t be able to talk any sense until you do.  Then you and me have some unfinished business to sort out once you’ve sobered up.”

I would have argued with him, but suddenly I was too busy heaving my guts up. After that, I must have passed out, because I don't remember much else until I woke up in my bed, alone, apart from the worst headache in living memory, wondering why on earth I could possibly have thought getting mindlessly smashed was the answer to all my problems.

Ah, that was it, the
mindlessly
part. As in not having to use my mind to think about anything. Well, that sure as hell hadn't been a very successful experiment, had it?

I lay in bed and cautiously moved my head to the side, realising I was dressed in just my underwear, although I had no recollection of getting undressed, and no idea where my clothes had ended up.

There was a glass of water on the bedside table, so I reached for it with a shaking hand and tentatively took a few sips, which helped a little to dispel the awful taste in my mouth. I managed to put it down without spilling it, before collapsing back on the bed and throwing my arm over my eyes as a shield against the light that was streaming through the crack in the curtains.

So it was morning, obviously.

It was all coming back to me, unfortunately.  Throwing myself at Will, and inviting him back to my place.  Being so sure it was a good idea, right up to the moment he’d started mauling my boobs. Then trying unsuccessfully to extricate myself.

After that, had it been a dream? Had Caleb really been there to step in like some kind of white knight in shining armour coming to my rescue?

But there was no reason for him to be over here in London.

I vaguely remembered him saying something last night about us needing to talk. Maybe the powers that be at the bank were pissed off with me for turning down their job, after they’d stumped up for my trip to San Francisco, and now they were expecting some kind of reimbursement. Well, tough luck, they could whistle for that. I'd not signed any kind of contract, so what could they do, sack me? That’d be hard, seeing as they’d already made me redundant.

My nostrils twitched as the smell of coffee wafted through enticingly, and I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen, opening cupboards. So Caleb was still around I realised, as I heard his deep rumbling voice, apparently talking to the cat.

I sighed as I wondered how quickly I could get rid of him. I'd wanted our association to end on a high note, which was why I’d left without any messy goodbyes, once I'd decided I wouldn’t be taking the job, and our association was therefore at an end. That way, he’d just be left with good memories of the fun times we’d shared together.

No question, things had been really great between us while it had lasted, but I hadn't wanted false promises about anything more between us as he’d started to talk about, that last morning we’d been in bed together. I didn't want to allow myself any kind of false hope, have any kind of expectation of something more from Caleb than he was capable of giving.  Not when that meant I’d inevitably be let down and left broken hearted when he moved on.  So I’d taken care of that by drawing a line under things, deleting him from my life, and determinedly looking forward rather than back.