-CHAPTER TWO-


FINGERS


Saturday September 26th 2009, Continued

ANASTASIA

THANKFULLY C DIDN'T LIVE FAR from the club.

"Pixie," his deep voice murmured in my ear, the low octave causing me to shiver.

"You cold?"

"No," Yes. Shaking my head from left to right. "I'm fine, just a little nervous," Blushing at my honest statement.

My teeth hooked into my bottom lip hoping he would see. I was anticipating another breathtaking kiss as I held my breath. Disheartened I only received a slight glance as he dropped his head to stare at his feet rather my mouth.

What?

Our hands were still grasped as his strong fingers gripped that little bit tighter. Have I misinterpreted his signals? We've kissed and I'm pretty sure he liked it, well I know I did. Maybe I should just leave, this is awkward and strange. Honestly, I'm not even sure how much longer we need to walk? Releasing his grip upset by my decision, C instantly raised his head.

"Don't," He croaked, as his voice sounded lost and defeated. "Please don't Pixie."

Without a thought our two hands meet as well as our mirroring smiles. Whoa, his mood swings are worse than Kate.

…..

CLOSING MY EYES IN DEFEAT, C's apartment block had stairs like an endless mountain which the Aztecs would have applauded. The thought of painful blisters from heel to toe was going to be the imminent reality.

"Oh Shit," I dipped my head staring at my inappropriate footwear for hiking up a flight of stairs.

It felt like we had walked close to an hour, as the majority of feel had left my feet. They were killing me. These heels which Kate carefully chose, apparently in her words were 'the comfiest ever period,' but they were more like a coffin for my deceased toes. With one swift lift, I was off the ground and dangling from C's shoulder.

"Hey put me down!" I squealed.

The best choice for anyone to put you down is to kick and, well kick. Thoughts flew through my mind in three seconds flat, with wearing a dress that barely covers my modesty, it's not an option. Freaking out is the option, all I can do is pull down, pull up. It's a balancing act between boobs and ass.

"Nope, not happening Pixie. Stay still!" C chuckled.

Embarrassed my hands covered my face, I was mortified as C continued to climb the flight of stairs.

His hand went straight to my ass, "Oww!" I yelped out, hopefully not disturbing his neighbors.

"Come on, you love it."

Love. Did he say love? Oh for fuck sakes Ana, get your shit together. He's just implying the ass slapping thing.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Carefully my feet were lowered to the floor as we had reached his door. Keys jingled and as the handle turned, my first impressions were shock. It was large, extremely box-ridden and very new. I wouldn't be surprised if it was a flip job, a really expensive one.

"Whoa," I murmured staring at his face.

"Don't look at me like that." His brows linked.

"What?" Confused not for the first time tonight.

"Don't." Was his only answer as he walked to the open planned kitchen.

My first assumptions were correct, most definitely boxes every where, not just in the entryway but the kitchen too. Maybe he just moved in. Am I jealous? Of course, I would do anything to be lone tenant, but that's me dreaming.

"Just moved in?" called from the couch.

"No."

Again what gives with the abrupt single answers. Ok. Maybe I should have left when I had the opportunity?

"You living alone?" Hoping I'll get a more detailed answer.

"Yes… no. I mean yes." C paused, rubbing his brow, "My brother is staying for a few days."

"I'm sorry, I'm… umm, I'm just new to all this." To what exactly Ana? Confusion? Hopefully he'll brush off what I said. "Hey. Didn't you mentioned Vodka earlier?"

What am I doing, I don't even like to drink!

"Ahh yes – the liquid courage," He spoke in a thick Russian accent, winking as he left the room.

He rustled around in the kitchen, clinking glasses, banging cupboards and eventually he submerged on the couch with a bottle in each hand.

"Ready?" He smiled with his head tilted to the left as the contents of the two bottles swirled around.

Our conversation naturally flowed as the night grew on. We drank, a lot. Ate way too much cheese pizza and laughed until I thought I was going to pee. It was nice and comforting. Is this the norm with hook ups? Oh my God, is this a hook up?

Suddenly we landed on the topic of passions. C mentioned several times how he was going to start his own business rather than being here at Harvard. His devotion behind this goal was infectious, it made me want to work even harder to graduate. He made me carefree, being myself, nothing faked and the attentive listener. That soon changed when he asked what were mine.

"Really, dreams?" I said hooking my brow, "Cliché, much?"

"Yeah, you know business is mine," He sat up straight, brushing the crumbs from his shirt, "starting my own company is my passion, goal, dream whatever you want to call it. I hope it's going to be a reality soon. But Pixie, you've been sitting here listening to me babble on for close to an hour solely about me, what about you?"

"It's not complicated, just detailed. Since high school I've had everything planned out like an extreme bullet journal,"

"Bullet journal?"

"Yes," Nodding, "Hang on don't worry about that." Chuckling at my analogy. "So I've set goals for myself. College, Grad School but I'm still not sure which direction I'll take, then you know the usual girlie stuff maybe marriage, kids you know. But I don't want kids now, in the future yes, when I'm settled down. First I need to finish my English Lit Degree. I'm on track to finishing at least two semesters early."

"Early. Why rush?"

"I love to study. The option of finishing early is I can move quicker onto post-grad. I'm taking six classes this semester, so the option is graduating sometime next year."

"I'm impressed."

"Maybe I might start my Masters, Pre-Law, medicine or A PhD in Literature? I'm really not sure but the choice is available and that's what I like."

C just sat there not a word, occasionally closing his mouth after it had dropped open.

"Oh give me a drink, you," shaking my finger at his face. That smile he gave over time made me melt, it was so foreign and highly unusual, but I liked it.

With a new drink in my hand, my eyes studied his apartment. Yep, still large and gorgeous, but suddenly I realized there was an upright piano hiding behind a stack of boxes.

"I can play you something if you like," I giggled as the liquid courage flowed through my veins.

Ana, don't make a fool of yourself.

My piano skills aren't great, but I do know two songs that are a bit more of a challenge than Mary had a little lamb. The introduction to Für Elise and the humorous classic Chopsticks. Removing my heels, I tip toed to the piano. Cautiously siting on the stool, it was time to start my fun.

Unsure if it was the alcohol or my raging hormones being ignited by C, I completely blew Für Elise. EPIC FAIL! I could only crash my head on the keys to make the song sound any better, being in complete embarrassment.

"Really?" C chuckled.

His laugh wasn't encouraging and it didn't really help my confidence but I persevered.

"Hey, I'm warming up here mister!" I said in pure frustration.

I stretched my arms above my head, while cracking my neck and knuckles. Only to assume this would help to loosen up. With a little more preparation I looked down at my bare feet tapping each of the three pedals randomly.

"You know, one is the gas, possibly another is the brake," He mocked.

"Oh, shut up!" shaking my head at his taunt.

I knew exactly what I was doing. Each pedal was highly important for the overall tone of music, notes, keys or something like that. But to end off my warm-up, I added a little spirit finger action to complete the overall routine.

DING, DING, CLANG, CRASH!

Mortification. That was my first thought, but reality hit, feeling utterly exposed. Nope, I'm too drunk. My head could remember how to play. It was the incompetence of my fingers refusing to press the keys in the correct order. Urrgh. I don't think my mannequin routine will suffice this time around.

"You know it's not a hard piece to play. The lucky thing is, Beethoven was deaf and now deceased." My face turned the color of a tomato, which wasn't helping my situation.

"Hey! I don't' see you playing." I pointed towards him, instantly surrender raising his hands. "I think we are a little tooooo confident over there," Pouting at C across the room., "C? I'm waiting," I gesturing at the key, since I'm far from a professional pianist I wouldn't expect much more from him.

Eating a large bite of cold pizza, C rubbed his greasy fingers down his jeans. A little huh under his breath, lacking grace he kicked his shoes off. The silence was deafening but he has a confidence it in his step while walking towards the piano.

"I can't leave my little Pixie waiting."

As I tried to leave the stool his strong hands held my shoulders down, with no other choice I remained seated. He sat to the left, giving that cheeky grin and closed his eyes. C placed his fingers on the keyboard and began to play. I was in awe of his flowing grace, technique and precision.

"Whoa."

Most definitely not as drunk as me.

He continued Für Elise where my disastrous massacre had finished only minutes earlier. His fingers were working into the world of classical music. As he reached for the higher notes his arm casually brushed my breasts.

"Do you think Beethoven would have approved?"

"OK. Sooooooo," My breath lengthening the o, "You can play. Like, really good! No, exceptionally good," my voice rushed.

"I've had some lessons," I wanted to curl into the fetal position. I must have been shortsighted since he did own a piano, "Since I was six," He added to further my embarrassment.

"Really, you could have mentioned this before I failed my audience!"

"You never asked." Shrugging his shoulders, like it was really nothing, "I don't usually perform for people. Each year I make an album of covers for my family for my birthday."

"Umm, shouldn't it be the other way around?" I was bewildered by his statement.

"Huh?"

"Your family should give you the presents. Typically that's how it works for birthdays." I poked him in the arm.

"It's more a gift of gratitude for them. I'm adopted."

Slightly lost, unsure of what to say. I've never met anyone who had been adopted before.

"Oh," was my thoroughly thought out reply, "I don't mean it like that… I'm sorry... Oh—"

"Pixie stop." C placed a single finger to my lips to end my chattering. "It's ok. I'm thankful I'm adopted. As I was saying, I don't play as much anymore, it's mostly to de-stress."

"Am I stressing you out?"

"Stressing wouldn't be the correct word to use," His finger stroked my cheek, "More… nervous."

I'm shocked he's nervous. I thought I was the only one slightly anxious.

"Since you started lessons at six and can master at least one Beethoven piece, play something a little more, contemporary."

Staring at the keys, he looked troubled while drawing a long deep breath. A smile finally returned as he pat his thighs, staring. At me.

"Huh?"

"Here," He summons.

Honestly, I think he's pointing at his crotch.

He doesn't want me toOh God, I can't do that!

Arms wrapped around my waist as I was lifted up for the second time tonight. I was moved like I had the weight of a feather, slowly he placed me down on his lap. My back to his chest, my eyes to the keys.

"Hey, umm, what—" C moved his arms around me and began to play, "Ohhh."

It was breathtaking. Watching his fingers up close as they flowed along the keys like water over a river stone. So calming, I've never heard anything so beautiful.

I slowly relaxed as he continued to played. Leaning back resting my head onto his chest, C suddenly stopped, becoming stiff and agile. Moving to see his eyes, they were closed, locked shut as if he was in pain.

"Hey I'm, I'm… so sorry." Realizing the breath I didn't realize I was holding, "D-did I do somet-thing wrong, h-have I hurt you?" I stuttered concerned it was me.

His lips pressed against my forehead, "No it's ok. I just lost my place that's all."

He moved his hands over the shape of my shoulders and down the length of my arms. Those long fingers continued until they were in my small petite hands.

"You have lovely hands Pixie."He lifted each palm placing them on his own, "I'm sure they will achieve something great, incredibly important. Now look at the keys, see…" My eyes dashed to the black and white keyboard, eagerly waiting.

C pressed the keys, something substantially easier, notably within my skill set.

"You're beautiful Ana," He whispered, resting his head on top of my crown.

Beautiful? And he called me Ana. Oh God, I can't handle this!

The bass notes were repetitive and bouncing. I recognized the song straight away.

"Ohh. I know this. I Gotta—"

"Feeling." He finished.

I leaned back for the second time easing my weight onto him, his breath hitched, but never missing a note. I love this song, and only hours before we both heard it at the club. My fingers gripped onto his while he continued to play. With a sudden urge of courage I wiggled below my hips to the beat of the song.

"Hmmm," C groaned.

Hearing the pleasure come from his mouth, excited my soul. I've never experienced anything like it. My wiggling slowly formed into a slight grind and curl, bending back to see his face. I was flushed, enjoying the new inner warm sensations pooling between my legs. Instantly his hands pulled apart, stopping our song abruptly. He turned my head so we were facing one another.

"If I only could take a photo right now." I sighed, "We're so having a moment aren't we?" Giggling at my silly words from my drunken mouth.

"No! I don't want anyone to see this."

"But, if only Kate could see," amazed my reaction, "You know, Me. Intimate with a man."

"What?" C blurted out loud, but I continued to grind further into his crotch.

"She's adamant I'm gay." He burst into laughter by my confession, "hey, thanks for wrecking the mood mister" Elbowing him in the arm.

"Definitely no mood ruining here," he said as the hot breath touched my skin.

Twisting my hip, I hiked my dress up slightly not caring if my modesty or possibly armpits were visible for my audience to see. Each leg swung around his slender waist as they hooked into place. For the first time in my life, I was straddling a man.

He lent forward waiting for my permission. With a single nod, his lips crashing into mine. The combined taste of Vodka and a scent I now know as C, caused my thighs to quiver. Our hands were everywhere, tangling together, mine ending in his curls. The moan was the tipping point and I was won over.

GAME. SET. MATCH.

Wanting to touch him, my fingers ran down his face, the curve of his neck and instantly to his chest.

He pulled away quickly as we both lost balance on the small stool. The fall was small as I landed on top of him. C's face was covered by his forearm, but the rosy hue of his cheeks made it clear how embarrassed he truly was. Well, I wasn't far behind since my dress was up to my stomach showcasing my flesh and damp underwear.

"Uggh," he groaned, but far from a pleasurable way.

"Are you ok?"

"I think I've hurt my pride." He refused to reveal his face.

Sitting up, I was trying to gain my balance, as I ended at his most sensitive area. I felt it. Oh God, it was… huge. Well, with sizing I had nothing to compare to, but obviously it was, big. Feeling a little bold I ground my hips one more time, praying he wasn't going to kick me out. The wave of pleasure hit like never before, my eyes rolled back as his two strong hands grasped my waist. Leaning forward his lips touched mine, and God I was hoping I hadn't drunk too much because I want to remember everything.

He tried his best to sit up, but I refused to stop grinding. With ease he lift me, and my legs were wrapped around him. We kiss again and again. Suddenly I felt a large sting over my ass, "Ouch," I squealed.

"Ouch" I squealed.

"Mine, Pixie"and he slapped my ass again, "Don't touch my chest and upper back ok."

His words were a battle but I agreed with his terms, "Ok."

Wrapped around his torso, he gripped me tighter never letting go as we made our way to his bedroom.

…..

THE SUN BURNED MY EYES as I squinted at my surroundings. Rubbing the crusted drool from my cheek I slowly gained my posture.

Urrgh, mornings should be illegal after a night of Vodka.

My hands brushed my bare skin, warm and clammy. Reasons to why I didn't shower before bed bothers me. But lifting the unfamiliar sheet, I glared down to my nether regions, my naked nether regions. Flicking my head around the room, instantly it landed to the exposed body next to me. C.

"Hmm," He hummed in his sleep.

"Oh God, what did we do?" I whispered as my teeth assaulted my lower lip, gnawing the already broken skin.

I need to go. Like now, this is not me. This can not be me.

Finding my cell on the sideboard, checking the screen. Fuck it's flat! Now I wouldn't be surprised that Kate has filed a missing person report and police are scanning the streets as I speak. Looking back at C, he was peacefully still sleeping; lying on his stomach with his ass showing. That familiar cheeky smile was still plastered on his face.

Oh God, why does he need to be so gorgeous.

Double checking he was still sleeping, I sniffed the bare skin as the aroma of his body wash, a little sweat and all C hit my nose. He was completely out as there was no movement, not even an eye flutter.

Stretching my arm I accidentally hit the head board, cringing as a few things fell on the floor. Shit! My chest pumped vigorously at my clumsy effort. Watching the body next to me, amazingly he remained asleep. Moving out of the bed, everything ache from head to toe.

We didn't, did we? Oh my God, I can't remember. Everything is a hazy fog, please say I didn't lose my virginity to a stranger and I can't remember a single second of it.

"Fuck!" I howled as I tripped over C's jeans instantly landing on my knees. I popped my head up trying to be stealthy, as all my prayers were answered, C continued to sleep. Gosh he must be tired, or… we were busy all night long!

Ana focus!

A dull throb drilled my head. Vodka will never enter my mouth again, but urgently I need water and Advil stat. The urge to leave and regroup was necessary with what has happened or possibly happened. Swiftly getting dressed, C's sweatshirt titled "Harvard Business School" was more appropriate as there is no way anyone will see this grey dress again.

Should I leave a note? Is that what you do, when bolting after a hook up? Oh God, was this a hook up. Fuck you Vodka, clear liquid my ass!

Finding a backpack in the corner of the room, searching the pockets I discovered a felt tip pen, and note book. Tearing a page, I debated what to include. Chewing on the lid, I scrawled:

C, thanks for the great night.

Loved every moment

From what I can remember!

Do I leave my number? Come on Ana, he has to have seen you naked and fucked you sideways - what's a fucking number!

Catch up soon.

Your Pixie xxx

555-483-6731

Engrossed that C may, could possibly call, of course this thing will work out. Anyways I have his sweatshirt, and it will need to be returned.

I placed my note on his dresser under a glass of fresh water from the kitchen. Thinking ahead, I positioned two Advil ready for his hangover. Looking back one last time, I smiled at the naked body while smelling the Harvard sweatshirt over my dress.

Carefully making my way down the stairs, I knew preparations are needed for the hurricane that was about to make landfall - Kate Kavanagh, because honestly I don't know what I'm going say when I see her.


A/N:

SONGS MENTIONED:

1. Für Elise - Beethoven.

2. Chopsticks - unknown.

3. River Flows In You - Yiruma

4. I GOTTA FEELING - Black Eyed Peas (Piano Cover by Pianistmiri). It can be found here youtube watch?v=HH5e3Ky6AT4

Thank you for reading the new reworked/beta-ed "Misplaced & Found." If you haven't already done so, please favorite, follow, review and PM me regarding any M&F questions or concerns. Pinterest will be live next week. See you soon for chapter 03 'Late'.

missmusicteach