A/N; I had originally thought to post this story in a one chapter per day format, corresponding to the current day of the week. That obviously didn't work out, but I am trying to update as frequently as possible. However, the next chapter may take a few days. Thank you guys for the favorites, follows and reviews. It's amazing and awesome and I appreciate it so very much.
Ok, remember, this story is rated M. Just a friendly reminder for no specific reason what so ever (=
Chapter 3 - Sunday & Sex
A knock on the door startled her. It was early, very early for a Sunday morning, and as she knew exactly who was on the other side, she was stunned. He didn't come off as an early riser. Then again, he had already surprised her a few times and she had only just met him 24 hours ago.
How did he know what room was hers? She hadn't told him. He had either spied on her, again, probably following her last night, or he had made the effort to knock on every door on the floor until hitting jackpot. She wasn't sure which one she considered odder. Or sweeter.
She grabbed a robe and covered up her PJs. She had given him enough of a peek show yesterday. She opened the door, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door quickly behind her.
He was wearing a t-shirt today, thank God, and his blond head was a nice mess of unbrushed hair. In difference from hers the previous day, it suited him.
"Morning, Pickle. Let me take you to breakfast, pay you back for yesterday."
Dimples were out to play on his too handsome face, making her hesitation waver a little more with each glorious second.
What was the harm in a little food? It wasn't as if it was a date. It was Sunday morning, for crying out loud.
She was starving and the boxed cereal had already lost its short-lived appeal.
She nodded. "Give me a minute to change".
He was slightly disappointed when she closed the door behind her. He would pay good money to watch her change. Wait, what?
She reappeared, not five minutes later, and to his discontentment she wasn't wearing shorts. Damn. Still looked amazing, though. But he had been hoping for an opportunity to discretely ogle those legs of hers.
His car was nice, well-kept but messy, the to-be-expected basketball shoes thrown in the back and more than a few papers, the top ones closely resembling syllabi, stacked in the front passenger seat.
"I'm sorry".
He had been too excited to see her again, that he hadn't really thought it through. He should have probably cleaned out the car before chasing her down.
She watched, amused, as he hurriedly began moving things into the trunk.
If he had only seen her room, he wouldn't be this embarrassed. Or her car, for that matter.
"Nice car."
"It used to be my sister's, I took it over when I left for college".
"You have a sister?"
"Yeah. You?"
She just nodded in response as she climbed into the now empty front seat.
The drive was short, a few minutes, and they soon pulled up outside of a diner that she hadn't ever been to before and quiet honestly, wasn't quite sure that she wanted to visit. Yet alone eat at.
If she had been worried that it was a date, her worries were clearly unfounded. This was not the place for trying to impress someone. As she thought of it, though, she kind of liked the fact that he was comfortable enough around her to bring her to a place that was all but fancy. It felt real, like he wasn't trying to impress her, not because he didn't care, but because he cared enough to make the effort to share something personal with her instead.
Still wasn't sure she wanted to eat there, though.
He sensed her hesitation.
"It's a little rough looking, but their pancakes are amazing. No judging by the cover and all of that, remember?"
She decided to take his word for it, and soon they were situated by the window, a large plate of hot pancakes covered with sweet maple syrup in the middle of the small, round table, the smell making her stomach growl and her mouth water, the latter courtesy of a combination of the hot pancakes and her equally, or possibly exceedingly, hot company.
To be frank, watching him devour something so lustfully turned her on. She had never known that someone eating could be so tantalizing. Most men ate like pigs. The sounds coming out of his mouth as he swallowed down piece after piece of the yellowish circles were, admittedly, animalistic and dirty, but far from pig-like.
Wow. Way to contain herself.
It was Sunday morning, they were in some half-empty, shady diner where the quality of the rest of the food on the menu was definitely to be considered questionable, and all she kept wondering was how it would feel to have him touch her.
She took a bite for herself and was conveyed. He was correct. They were exactly as great as he made them out to be.
"So how's that broken heart of yours?" Casually, as if he was talking about the never-changing weather or some old, ailing pet.
Strangely, it didn't sting as much as she had thought it would. Or as much as it used to. "I'm working on it, putting the pieces back together, you know..."
"Need a band-aid? Maybe some tape?" He was sincere despite his playful demeanor.
She appreciated his joke. She wasn't ready to talk about it in all seriousness.
She wasn't sure she would ever be ready for that.
"More like a lifelong supply of the best brand of superglue."
Ouch.
"That bad, huh?"
She shrugged, uncomfortably.
Clearly time for a change of topic.
"What about you? Complicated, what does that mean?"
Was she positive that she really wanted to know?
"That something is difficult to understand or explain".
"Yes, thank you, that's what I was talking about. I was really asking you for the Webster definition."
He smirked. "I know what you meant. And it means that Cassidy, that's Barbie to you, and I are currently on a break. Like, a break from each other."
Oh.
His eyes were piercing hers from underneath his face-gracing hair, some type of hard to describe or possibly ambiguous emotion was floating around in there, as if he was curious to know what her response to that information would be, but too scared to ask her straight out.
Good.
She wasn't sure how she felt about it and wasn't at all in the know on how to comment on it. It had given her some sense of false security to know that he was with someone else as she would never, ever, contemplate getting involved, in any way, with someone who was in a relationship. Yet, the fact that he was currently unattached, and thereby, in theory, available, created unwelcome jelly legs and rapid heart beats. Instantly.
Damn body. Control yourself.
She didn't really get it, though. In her world, things were pretty much black or white. You were either together or not. The shady, grey, in-between business was not for her.
He paid, not letting her ship in and automatically making her debate the date-issue once again. Not that she didn't appreciate the gesture. He insisted that it was his treat, as he was the one who had initiated their breakfast adventure. She decided that she was going to treat him back, not because she felt like she had to but because she wanted to.
He swung his arm around her shoulders as they walked out, and she didn't flinch. Miracle.
He smelt good, by the way. As intoxicating as his laughter.
He opened the lobby door for her as they returned to the dorm.
"Thank you so much, those pancakes were amazing." She meant it.
"Just like you." Wait, that was only in his head.
"Glad that you agreed to live a little". That was better. More appropriate.
She smiled, and raised her hand in a short goodbye wave. She wanted to hug him but couldn't. Wouldn't.
She was walking towards the door leading to her staircase.
"What are you doing later? Do you want to watch a movie or something?"
He sounded eager yet nervous, resulting in some hard to resist adorableness.
She was probably the only straight female on earth over the age of 5 that would describe him as adorable. She was flattered that he had asked, almost excited.
Part of her was wondering if he only paid attention to her because she was the only one around, but the other part couldn't care less. It wasn't as if she was looking for anything, anyways, other than possible friendship. She had thought she wanted to be alone, but he was fun and his life energy was, amazingly yet not disturbingly, as contagious as she had predicted on Friday afternoon while observing him through that upstairs window.
Never mind that she generally wasn't this attracted to her friends.
She turned around, ready to confirm his proposition, when she remembered. Shoot. She did have something to do.
"I'm actually...I'm bar tending tonight."
She could have told him she was going bungee-jumping and he had not been more surprised.
"Where?"
"Why, planning to stalk me?"
He smiled sheepishly. "Maybe. And if so, you will be happy. If I receive great service, I'm a very good tipper".
She ignored his insinuation once again. It started to become routine.
She was positive he was a good tipper. Among many other things.
"Over at 'The Bar'. I'm covering my roommates shifts there while she's gone."
That was his favorite bar. That could not be a coincidence.
...
She had spent the rest of the day cooped up in her room, catching up on school work and writing, to her own surprise, almost a full song. And not even a sad one. She had found some inspiration in the absence of her usual headaches, for once having pleasant dreams and waking up in a not too bad of a mood. She had written more in the last few hours than the last few months combined. It must be due to those delicious pancakes.
...
She entered the bar, hesitantly as she had actually never been there before, always coming up with lame but passable excuses when Trish had begged her to come join her while working there.
For the break, however, she couldn't come up with anything, as she knew that Trish was painstakingly aware of her lack of plans. She had convinced her to cover her shifts, as a way of making some extra money and, as she had so eloquently put it, get out a little.
It was funny that she had only known Trish for a few months, and yet she was able to predict exactly how she had planned to spend her time off.
So she had agreed, reluctantly.
She kind of liked it.
It was small, but cute, the generic bar paraphernalia intermixed with pictures of what she could only presume to be local celebrities.
She greeted Trish's boss, now her temporary boss, him introducing himself as Jimmy, then quickly trying to make herself comfortable behind the bar. The other bartender for the night quickly showed her the ropes, and she quickly got the hang of it. She liked Kira. She soon learned that she was Jimmy's daughter.
She felt comfortable. She was no expert, bit she had the basics down path.
Half an hour later, and someone had bought her her first drink. What was that rule that Trish had tried to make her remember, again? Something about accepting drinks, but spitting something out...never mind, she got the accepting drinks part, that must be the most important one.
One more generous customer later, and she was already tipsy.
"Ally, I want you to meet someone".
Jimmy's voice startled her, and when she turned around she stumbled on her own foot in the process. Two strong arms hindered her fall.
"No need to throw yourself at me, all you have to do is ask". She blushed and punched him in the shoulder.
"Didn't mean to scare you". She was scared, alright. Shitless. More so by the irresistible smile that he was flashing her than anything else.
"So, I guess you couldn't help but stalk me."
So help him God, she was wearing shorts. Short shorts. Teeny tiny as -short-as-her-sleep-shorts shorts.
"Don't know what you're talking about. I'm here to catch up with an old friend", slapping Jimmy familiarly on the back before the older man walked away.
"See you Wednesday, Austin".
"Sure thing." He sounded excited.
Interesting.
It just so happened that her next shift was going to be on Wednesday.
"So what can you do?" Not talking about her bar tending skills as he had walked around to the outside of the bar and was now leaning nonchalantly on the counter.
"What?"
"Drinks? What's your specialty?" Not talking about drinks.
His not so successful flirting was rudely interrupted by someone on the other side of the bar.
"Hey, sweet cheeks, give me some sugar".
She ignored the man, serving him his drink but not accepting his offer to buy her one. He protested, loudly, then continuing his jargon of obscenities. He clearly didn't know how to take a hint.
"Come on baby, just a little kiss".
The man was blowing air kisses at her. She looked uncomfortable, to say the least.
"Hey, leave her alone." He sounded angrier than intended but less angry than he was.
"Who are you, her jealous boyfriend?" He wished.
"None of your fucking business".
"That means no, so shut the fuck up. And you, missy, I know you're type. Stuck-up, pretending to be a prude, but then let's lose completely in bed. I know you want it, don't be such a fucking tease."
She was tomato red and his fist was twitching, he could already clearly visualize his fist punching the douche-bag's nose in, the imagined adrenaline from the satisfaction of cracking his bone already starting to pump through his veins.
Lucky, undecidedly for him or the other man, Jimmy showed up right on time and escorted the too drunk to walk man out of there.
"Thanks", shyly and still embarrassed.
"Anytime." And he meant it. He would keep horny, drunk men away from her at any cost.
All of them.
All of them except for himself.
Jimmy called her over and told her that she could leave if she wanted to, as the bar stated to empty out and Kira would stay for the rest of the night which at this point was only another hour.
"See you Wednesday. Open-mic night".
She nodded in agreement.
"So you're shift is over?" He sounded hopeful. She nodded in confirmation.
"Lets take some shots." He knew she would disagree.
"I don't do shots."
"And how is that working out for you? Are you happy?"
She shook her head at him as he was using the flawed logic yet selling strategy of every alcoholic out there, dead or alive, but also realized that he did have a point.
She was on spring break. During last year's break, at this point, she had already...
Wow, last year...
Yep, she definitely was going to have another drink. A shot, even.
Perhaps some alcohol-induced fun was exactly what she needed.
She had all but agreed before a small glass with clear liquid was placed in front of her by Kira. She smelled it, reluctantly.
Tequila.
Of course.
"You brought the lemons, right?" She laughed, recalling their conversation from the previous night.
"Im surprisingly lemon free as of late".
He shrugged, but he was celebrating on the inside. Seeing her happy, well, happier, was, oddly, all he wanted.
"Doesn't mean we cant throw one hell of a party", handing her the salt and a lemon wedge as he prepared for round one.
A few rounds later, and she was giggling. It was funny, really, because it was as if each drop of alcohol substantially weakened her head, letting her body be in charge, making decisions that were undoubtedly to be questioned later.
"Let's dance". He wasn't asking.
Not a great idea.
He swayed her to the music, taking the lead as he instinctively knew she wouldn't, quickly realizing that she was everything but a great dancer.
He should have known, he had watched her run.
Their bodies became closer intertwined with each passing minute, soon engaging on some type of slow dance despite the DJ playing music that was anything but.
He was taller than her, by quite a bit, yet she for perfectly tightly pushed up against his body. As if she belonged there.
He let his hand run over her back, itching to touch her ass but not daring to. The fact that she let him hold her close was more than he would have hoped for.
The bar was closing down.
"Let's split a cab". He knew neither of them was in shape to drive."It's not like we're not going home together, anyways." He smirked.
That did it. Standing on her tippy toes despite her high wedges, she was whispering seductively in his ear.
"My room or yours?"
He wasn't sure what to answer. He was in shock that she finally responded to his half-covered attempts at flirting, but so unequipped to respond to her as he had expected it to never happen.
They were outside, waiting for the cab that was supposed to arrive in ten minutes but was now going on twenty, his arm around her shoulder and the sexual energy not just pulsating through the air but consuming them.
He kissed her for the first time because he could not not to. It was soft, not necessarily hesitant but restrained on his part, hesitant but not necessarily restrained on hers.
He had been wanting to kiss her since he first saw her behind that bar. No actually, since last night on the girls lounge couch. Nevermind, since she beat him running yesterday. Nope, nope, that wasn't it. Since he saw her leaned up against the kitchen counter and before he had even had the pleasure of seeing her beautiful face. That was it.
Shots and making out. Even some bad dancing. It was staring to look like spring break, after all.
The second one was in the backseat of the half an hour delayed cab, and none of them could recall whom had initiated it but it really didn't matter as the kiss was now all but restrained. He was running his hand over her bare legs and any hint of reluctance was far gone. It was hard for him to believe that this was the same girl that had flinched when their hands had touched, as late as the previous day.
He wasn't thinking.
He shouldn't be doing this.
This wasn't happening.
He was supposed to figure out what he was doing with his life. Not complicate it further. But shit, did he want to get complicated. Naked complicated. With her.
She knew she was going to regret it and yet, she didn't care.
This was fun.
Mind-free.
Thoughtless.
Fun.
His kisses reflected his personality, hot yet sweet and oddly intoxicating. She was surprised. It wasn't like she didn't expect him to be good at it.
She just didn't expect to enjoy it so much.
He kissed her again in the darkened staircase leading up to his wing, her back pushed back into the steel reeling and not caring the slightest as she didn't want to break away from the mouth she was eagerly exploring.
He was...something else.
She wanted him. Badly.
She wasn't thinking.
Good.
They started moving up the stairs, their lips still interlocked.
Apparently, the answer to her earlier question was his room.
They entered, undressing each other, aiming for slow but settling on semi-so.
Her mind wasn't working. It allowed her body to enjoy him, her brain shutting off, for the first time in months.
It was liberating, because in the past she had always confused sex with love. As if they somehow, inadvertently, had to occur at the same time. She had learned the hard way that that wasn't the case.
This time around, she knew better.
But holy crap.
It was as if he knew exactly what she liked, as if he had an instruction manual written of her body stashed away in his nightstand, almost as if they had done this before...
And his body, that body...
"I wanted to take you on that couch last night", his voice in her ear as his hips were grinding into hers almost as if he had lost control of them.
"What?" So maybe that sexual tension had not just been a product of her own imagination.
"And I wanted to take you up against that kitchen counter" "We had just met". She meant to sound scolding but failing as she was panting heavily from his fingers running over her body.
He didn't respond as he was hungrily kissing her again, pushing her down on his narrow twin bed and covering her with himself, then both of them with his comforter, creating a private cave of intimacy in his all but cozy room.
Heaven. Him touching her was heaven.
Heaven. Touching her was heaven.
"Tell me to stop...if you don't want this, which I'm pretty sure you don't, you have to tell me."
And she realized that there was absolutely no way she wanted him to.
Stop, that is.
Wait, was she really going to do this?
She hadn't been with anyone since him. She hadn't even kissed anyone since then.
His tongue made contact with the skin on her neck again, melting away the last of her doubts.
Yep. Yep, she was doing this.
She shouldn't but she would.
After all, there had to be some truth behind the the best-way-to-get-over-someone-is-to-get-under-someone-else motto. And shit, did she want to get under him.
He was making her feel things she hadn't known that she missed and had had no idea that she had been craving.
She kissed him, hard, letting him know her answer to his unstated question.
He shakingly reached for something in his bedside drawer and she stopped him as she knew what he was looking for. "You don't need it." He growled out loud.
Holy hell.
This was going to be good.
Not that he hadn't known that already.
He was on her again, his lips on hers as he entered her, one swift movement and she gasped as he filled her.
Wet. Tight. Mind-blowing.
The bed was moving, the metal frame hitting the cement wall with each thrust, his hot breath panting in her ear as she had sex for the first time in a long time.
Sex.
It was just sex.
Pure and simple.
Well, neither pure nor simple.
It was much better than she could remember.
He was moving in short circles, barely able to contain himself but knowing that he needed to. He needed to last. At least for a few fucking minutes. He was still half in disbelief that this was actually happening.
He slowed down, keeping his cock still inside of her to prevent himself from cumming while he reached down and rubbed her into bliss.
She came undone, waves of pleasure similar to the ones on the ocean outside rippling through her, and just like the ocean waves, she wanted it to last into eternity. He made her feel anything but insignificant.
He followed, savoring the way she was moving against him as she climaxed, soon screaming out her name, her actual name, the sound filling the sparsely decorated room and sipping out under the door, soon echoing throughout the abandoned hallway as he came hard inside of her.
...
So that had been amazing.
Just what she needed.
And yet, paradoxically, exactly what she didn't.