A Bad Bit Nice (11 page)

Mick buzzed with the adrenaline of performing. It had been a long time since he was on a stage in front of an audience and not in a studio with one or two people. He’d thoroughly enjoyed it.

They stayed at the pub until closing, which was extended for a private party for the band. It was good to see the guys of Skankin’ Janey Mac.

Liam walked up to Mick and slapped him on the back. “Hey Mick, I didn’t realize. No hard feelings, okay?” he said in a low voice.

Mick raised his chin and his glass to his friend. “No, no hard feelings.”

He caught Em looking at him. She smiled and he found himself walking over to her.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself, Mick. That was incredible, just fantastic. Why don’t you play live more often?”

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t figure I had the time.”
Because I want to fuck when I get off the stage and I don’t have anyone to love.

Em stifled a yawn. “Boy, I’m getting old. Two ciders and I’m absolutely beat.”

“You do realize it’s like three o’clock in the morning, right?”

“What? How’d it get so late? Oh, I’m going to regret this tomorrow. Or rather, later today.” Em groaned. “Luckily, Rory said that we didn’t have to come in until noon or so.” She frowned. “Where
is
Rory, anyway?”

“He took Ashley home about three hours ago,” laughed Mick. “Or rather, he drove her home in her car since I drove us here.”

Em groaned again. “She was my ride.”

“It’s lucky that I happen to know someone who lives really close. Maybe he could give you a ride?” Mick grinned and pointed his thumbs back at himself.

“You’re a goof. I
am
really tired, Mick. Do you mind if we go?”

“Not at all. Let me tell the boys goodbye.”

Mick sneaked looks at Em all the way to their house. She dozed in the passenger seat, leaning up against the window. A piece of hair had escaped from her bandana and Mick barely resisted the urge to wrap it around his fingers.

When they were safely in the garage, Mick placed his hand on Em’s neck, squeezing it softly. “Em, we’re home.”

“Oh, that was quick,” she said, stretching like a cat, her breasts thrusting out as she wiggled her back.
Oh dear lord
. Mick’s cock hardened at the sight of her. He took a deep breath and exited the car to help open Em’s door, only to find her already out and making her way towards the house.

Em stumbled up the steps. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fatigue that made her so wobbly. Mick, on the other hand, seemed wide awake, but also seemed to be having trouble walking.

“You seem very...hyped up, Mick.” she said, in awe that he would have so much energy at such a late hour.

“I’m always this way after I perform. Adrenaline rush.”

“Do you want to come up and have a drink? Some tea or hot chocolate or hot milk? It might relax you.” Em couldn’t decide if she was seriously brilliant or completely moronic. He seemed on edge, but not in a bad way. Mick’s eyes shone with mischief and the corner of his mouth curled up into a half smile.

“I’d love to, but only if you’re sure that you aren’t too tired.”

“I’m sure. I think I’m at the point where I’m overtired and need something myself.”

“Well then, sounds great.”

Beauregard greeted them at the door, complaining loudly about being left alone. Mick scooped up the tubby cat for some belly rubs and chin scratches while Em put on milk to warm.

“So you want hot chocolate or just milk?” Em asked.

“Well, what are you having?”

“I’m having hot chocolate.”

“Then that sounds good for me, too,” he grinned.

When the cocoa was ready, Em poured the hot drink into two mugs and made her way to the living room. She plopped down next to Mick on the couch and leaned against him, handing him his mug.

“
Sláinte
,” she said, clinking her mug with his.

“
Sláinte
,” Mick toasted back.

They sat in comfortable silence, listening to a playlist that Em had turned on to keep Beauregard company. Mick smiled as he recognized the familiar songs.

“So the cat likes Newfoundland music, too?”

“A lot of it’s about fishing, and Beauregard likes fish, so it makes complete sense.” Mick chuckled at her logic.

Em raised her eyes up at Mick and saw that he was looking at her intensely. Em licked her lips and Mick’s eyes zoomed in on the moisture that her tongue left.

He leaned down into her and whispered in her ear, his breath hot, “Em, may I kiss you?”

“Please do, Mick.”

After taking her mug and setting both on the coffee table, Mick put one hand on her neck as he kissed her cheek. He moved over to her mouth and kissed it chastely before moving to the other cheek. Em’s mouth opened slightly and Mick moved back to her mouth, kissing it more deeply. He opened his mouth more, and suddenly, his tongue and Em’s were locked in a battle of passion. He brought her head nearer to him and wrapped his other arm around her back, pulling her body to his chest. Em threw her arms around his broad back, pulling him close. She rose up on her knees, pressing her torso to his and kissing him even deeper.

Mick pulled her into him to lie back on the large Victorian divan. One hand drifted down to a buttock and softly gripped the round globe. Em expressed her approval for this move by pressing her breasts into Mick’s chest and tossing her glasses on the coffee table.

Mick could feel Em’s nipples through the soft material of her shirt and bra. He moaned into her mouth, wrapping one of his long legs around hers. He kissed her neck, nipping it a little, and licked the soft curve of her ear. Now, it was Em’s turn to groan. She wiggled her hips against him in pleasure, rubbing against his hard erection. When she straddled him, still kissing, he didn’t stop her.

They were like two high school kids, fully clothed but writhing all over each other. Em had unbuttoned his shirt and was running her hands over his chest and under his undershirt. Mick had his hands under her soft blouse, where he thumbed her nipples through the lace of her bra.

Mick grabbed Em’s hips, grinding her against him. He could feel her heat through two layers of denim. Em gasped and tensed as an orgasm rocked through her. Mick could feel her pussy clenching through her jeans, sending him over the edge. He grunted as he thrust into Em’s denim-clad softness. They ended together, and Em collapsed on his chest. Both of them started giggling, which quickly turned into laughter.

“Oh my lord, Mick. What are we? 16?” Em was still giggling.

“Yep, that’s about the last time I came in my pants,” Mick snorted.

“Oh no, that’s messy. Let me let you clean up.”

Em started to get off the couch, but Mick grabbed her by the neck and kissed her deeply, his eyes open to gaze at her orgasm-flushed face.

“Oh Jesus, it’s five a.m., Em. You’re going to be exhausted,” he said when he finished thoroughly kissing her.

Em continued to kiss his neck and his chin. “Stay with me,” she murmured. “We can just sleep.”

Mick pushed her gently away from him. They were still breathing hard. He ran his fingers over her cheek, her lips, her neck, planting kisses on her mouth.

“Girlie, you know very well that sleep is exactly what wouldn’t be happening.” He looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to understand.

“It’s okay, Mick. I understand, I think.” She kissed him on the mouth, and ran her fingers over his temple. “You need to get cleaned up. And you’re right, I need to rest a little so I’m not completely dead at work in...” she groaned, checking the wall clock, “...five hours.”

“It’s really okay? I...had a good time.” Mick threw himself back on the divan and guffawed.

Em giggled. “I had fun, too. Okay, shoo! If you stay much longer, I can’t promise I won’t beg you to get in my bed.” Mick let out a startled laugh at her forwardness. Em cocked her head at Mick, her gaze softening. “Get out of those jeans before they totally stick to you. Men are so gross.” She shuddered with mock disgust, following it up with a shy grin.

Mick got up from the couch, but leaned down and kissed her deeply, one last time. “See ya soon, Em,” he said with a wink as he went out the door, locking it behind him.

“Lock the deadbolt, girlie,” he called from outside the door.

Em locked the deadbolt and, looking through the peephole, was pleased that he waited to hear her engage the security lock before he returned to his apartment. She watched his retreating figure go down the stairs, then ran into her bedroom and threw herself on her bed, a huge grin on her face.

Em made it into the office by 10:30 the next morning. She was somewhat surprised that she didn’t see Rory’s Maserati in the parking lot. The man was a machine, often going straight from the red-eye flight to the office and working a ten-hour day. Maybe he’d finally taken his own advice and was taking some time for himself.

Em drank her second cup of coffee and attempted to make sense of some proposed schematics, but her mind was nowhere near the office. Mick’s text inviting her for “supper at his place” didn’t help her concentration at all. She alternated between anticipation of a future encounter and memories of last night’s wrestling match.

The sound of Ashley’s voice pulled Em from her reverie. She wandered from her office, calling her friend’s name.

“Hey, Em,” chuckled Ashley, somewhat nervously. “There you are. I was in the neighborhood and thought you might like to get some lunch. I ran into Rory on my way to your office and stopped to thank him for inviting us to the show last night.” She smiled brightly at Rory.

“I’d love to, Ash. We have a lot to talk about. Let me grab my bag.” Em left the office, then ducked her head quickly back in. “Hey boss, nice of you to join us today.”

“So what’s got you so fired up, Em?” Ashley asked as they got in her car.

“We made out last night,” Em blurted.

“Now, when you say ‘made out’, what exactly do you mean?”

“I mean a tongue-wrestling, under-the-clothes groping, hip-grinding, solidly-second-base make-out session.”

“Did you come?”

“Ash, I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out.”

“And I am assuming he came as well?”

“In his pants, which is unfortunate,” Em grimaced.

“Ew.” Ashley made a face. “Was it weird after?”

“No, we were both laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of the two of us dry-humping on the couch like a couple of horny teenagers. And he wants to cook me dinner tonight.”

“Ooh that’s a good sign!” Ashley grew thoughtful. “I am really happy for you, Em,” she said wistfully.

“So what about you, Ashley? Any new men?”

“Actually, there is someone, but I’m trying to be discreet for once, so no more questions.”

“One more question: do I know him?”

“I said, no more questions, Em!” Ashley’s mouth quirked into a grin. “But you do know what this means, right? We’re skipping lunch and going lingerie shopping!”

*****

Em and Mick sat side by side on the porch swing, Mick’s arm slung across the back of the swing and Em tucked into his shoulder.

“Dinner was so good, Mick. Thank you,” Em sighed She was full and contented.

“It was just pub food, but I’m glad you liked it.” Mick kissed the top of her head and gave the swing another soft push. Em had her hand on his leg and enjoyed the feel of his strong thigh as it flexed when he pushed off.

“‘Just pub food,’” Em scoffed. “That’s the fanciest pub food I’ve ever seen. I think of jalapeno poppers and fish and chips as pub food, not smoked salmon and capers and sliced hard-boiled eggs with little sprigs of garnish! Very impressive.”

“Oh, you’ll never have to worry about fish and chips with me. We lived off cod when I was a kid. I almost retch whenever I come near cod,” shuddered Mick. “My brothers were fishermen, yeah? Cod was cheap and mild and that’s about all we ever had, because they would drop it off at the house.” Mick looked mildly nauseated just talking about it.

“I’m sorry if I brought up bad memories,” Em said softly.

Mick kissed her temple. Hell, if he banned all things that brought up terrible memories from his childhood, no one would be able to talk to him about anything. “No worries, girlie. No worries at all.”

Mick settled Em further into him and rested his head against hers. “You must be wiped out. I know you didn’t go to bed until late and then you worked all day,” he said, his eyes closing as he reveled in the feeling of Em’s soft form nestled under his arm.

“Mmm, I’m awfully relaxed now between my full belly and you rocking this swing. It’s very nice.” Em had her arms wrapped around his waist, her fingers entwined at his hip. She knew she ought to leave before she nodded off right here on the swing, but she didn’t want to.

She turned her head to press her mouth against the side of Mick’s chest. She sighed contentedly, comfortable with just sitting his arms, rocking on the porch, not saying much.

She woke up hours later on Mick’s big leather sectional, covered in a light blanket and her head in his lap. The wet warmth on the hand that she had tucked under her face told her she had been drooling.
Ooh, sexy, Em.

“Hey, sleepy,” whispered Mick with a smile. “I would have taken you upstairs, but I didn’t know if your place was locked.”

“I must have been more tired than I thought. How long have I been out?”

“A few hours.” A small lamp limned Mick’s silhouette, sparking the silver in his hair and beard. He stroked Em’s hair and ran a thumb over her plump bottom lip. Em pulled his thumb into her mouth, nipping the pad. She sat up, put her arms around his neck, and rested her head on his shoulder. He hugged her tightly, deeply inhaling the orange and vanilla scent of her hair.

“Okay, I’m going to head upstairs, Mick. Thank you again for dinner and spending your evening with me. Sorry I was a dud.”

“You weren’t a dud at all. Trust me, the pleasure was all mine.”

Em contorted herself into one of her feline stretches.

“What do you have going on this weekend? Maybe we could catch a show or something?” Em said hopefully.

Mick was very quiet for a few moments.

“Um, this weekend isn’t good.” Mick winced inwardly when he saw the disappointment flicker in Em’s eyes. “No, I mean, I’ve got some stuff going on and I’m not going to be good company this weekend.”

“No biggie. I’ll catch you soon, then,” Em said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “See you, Mick.”

“Let me walk you out.”

Mick rested his hand in the middle of her back. “See ya, Em,” he said, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek as she left his apartment.

Em walked up the stairs and across the landing to her apartment, thinking about the look of sadness that had crept into his face. Was he regretting their little make-out session?

They were moving awfully fast, maybe too fast. She needed to cool her jets with the physical stuff. She was insanely attracted to him, but hopefully, there would be time enough in the future for them to become more physically intimate.