Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story (13 page)

Go where? I
don’t remember organising anything last night. I don’t remember
over half of the things that happened last night.

I really need to
stop drinking.

AT TEN SHARP
there’s a crisp rapping on the front door, then a turn of the
handle. It’s locked.

“
Maggie it’s me, open up sweetheart,” Red calls through the
timber, making me smile big and genuine.

The second the
lock clicks the front door’s flung open and Red has his mouth
pressed against mine, kissing me frantically. “Fuck you taste good
sweetheart.” His words get lost in our mouths. I’m so overcome by
his eagerness I kiss him just as hard. I really like feeling this
desperate, this desired.

We stumble until
my back hits the wall by the door. He deepens our kiss, grinding
his growing erection against my stomach. His hands are everywhere,
pulling at my clothes, my fitted skirt tight around my thighs. He’s
tearing my underpants out of the way and has my knee up and around
his side. He pops the button on his jeans and yanks at the zip,
squeezing my breast too hard with his other hand. He palms his
erection, rubbing it over my underwear.

I can’t do this.
It’s too much, he’s too much. I feel like I’m drowning in him. I
push him back, trying to protest only for him to surge on more
aggressively.

I abruptly turn
my head to one side, gasping for air as he attacks my neck, biting
and licking his way to my breasts. “Red, please,” I gasp. “I need
you-”

“
I
need you too sweetheart,” he growls, taking my mouth captive again.
His forceful tongue filling me is suffocating.

“
No,”
I whimper, tucking my chin. I’m starting to panic, my heart beating
fast for all the wrong reasons. “Red, stop.” I need him to slow
down.

He freezes.
Pulling back with a heaving chest, he sniffs his nose rubbing the
tip on his shoulder, then narrows his eyes. “You’re not a cock
tease are you, sweetheart?”

“
No,
I don’t think so.” I stutter out confused by his question and the
hostility in his tone.

He starts
chuckling, but there’s a sharp edge to it. “You were all hot and
heavy last night sweetheart. What’s the problem?”

“
I
was?”

He starts
laughing harder the longer he takes in my expression, pressing his
erection firmly against me before releasing me. He sniffs and wipes
at his nose again with the back of his hand while stepping away,
glancing around the room. “Fucking hot shit, sweetheart. You ready
to go?”

I don’t know if
I want to go anywhere with him anymore. I don’t want to stay here
either, surrounded by my death, so I pick up my bag and keys and
follow him out the front door.

RED PARKS HIS
sports car on a dark street that has me worried that it’s not going
to be here when we get back. It’s one of those old muscle cars that
attracts a lot of attention. The black exterior is polished and
catches in the street lights, the tan leather interior is wearing
and torn in parts, though the radio’s been updated.

Red hasn’t
spoken much so I can’t tell if he’s upset with me or if this is his
way. During the drive he passed me a silver flask and told me to
drink. I took a sip and coughed as the horrible taste hit my
tongue.

“
Bourbon,” he explained, lifting the canister to my lips.
“Drink, it gets easier.” I took sip after sip until I no longer
cringed or gagged, and started to relax.

Red smiles in my
direction and I’m happy because he’s no longer annoyed with
me.

Once we’re out
of the car he takes my hand, threading our fingers. I hold them up,
inspecting them like they belong to someone else. They feel so
surreal entwined together, his skin’s amazingly soft and so
wonderful I have to caress it against my cheek.

My God he feels
amazing. I slow my steps, barely noticing our movement I’m so
distracted by the velvet sensation, feathering the back of Red’s
hand from one side of my face to the other, brushing his knuckles
lightly over my lips, up the length of my nose to my forehead and
down my cheek again. I repeat the pattern deliberately, over and
over and never getting enough.

He walks a step
in front of me pulling me, along the footpath to a steep set of
dark descending stairs. He stops at the top waiting on me to catch
up, steps down one and turns to look at me. He’s smirking, flashing
his dimple as his eyes trace over my face. He loosens his grip and
lets my hand free to run his fingers through my hair, cinching some
behind my ear.

Wow… that
feel’s… ugh… I want him to touch me like that again and again and
again…

“
You’re so fucking innocent Maggie,” he whispers tenderly,
leaning in and kissing my mouth so carefully it makes my knees
buckle. His hands go to my blouse and he undoes the two top
buttons, opening the collar wide so the curves of my breasts are
showing. His eyes lower to his work.

Seemingly
satisfied with the result, he licks at my cleavage and nips my
chin, then my mouth. “So fucking innocent.” His velvet lips move
feather light across my skin, sending goose bumps scattering over
the tender surface. I don’t know why but every touch, every caress
is beyond incredible. Red feels beyond incredible.

Reaching into
his pocket, he pulls out a smoke I recognise now as a joint and
places it carefully between my lips. He flicks his lighter and
instructs me to inhale a small breath, not too hard or too deep.
He’s teaching me to smoke a joint, just like he taught me how to
drink tequila shots.

I should turn
and run while I still can, go to my empty house and my reclusive
vacant life, but I don’t. Instead I stand on the top of the stairs,
resting my hands on his shoulders, relishing the feel of his
jacket. I hold Red’s daring, unblinking stare while he watches me,
smiling in satisfaction.

Red orders me to
breathe in the smoke and hold it in, and takes the rolled paper
when he thinks I’ve had enough. His eyes widen not seconds before
he attacks my mouth, kissing me like he did back at the house. My
hands go to his hair as he swallows my offering, both the smoke and
the moisture gathering in my mouth.

I don’t
understand how he does this to me, how he works me like putty,
deliciously confusing my senses and moulding me to his needs. He
pulls back and takes a long pull on the joint, holding it
in.

His pupils
dilate and darken, and this time it’s me grabbing at him, pulling
his mouth to mine and devouring his offering. I’m glad I chose a
knee length skirt instead of pants. It makes it easier to move when
I leap onto him and wrap my legs around his waist, crossing my
ankles to hold him tight. I feel the smile on his lips as he
returns my passion, pressing one hand firmly onto my butt, the
other sneaking up the side leg to the edge of my panties. He shifts
me slightly, rubbing me up and down the front of his hips, ensuring
to press my swelling nib against his zip and over his
erection.

“
We
should get inside, sweetheart, before we get arrested,” Red laughs,
sniffing again, but it’s a half-hearted effort. I don’t think he’s
completely against chancing an arrest.

He lowers me to
the ground, sucking on my slightly fuller lower lip before stepping
away. I feel amazingly free. I don’t worry about the tiny rational
part of me that’s in shock at my complete change in
personality.

Entwining our
fingers again, Red leads us into the dark of the Rabbit Hole. We’ve
descended about half way when the deep base of pounding music
vibrates along the brick walls surrounding us. The further we down
go, the clearer the music becomes. It’s heavy, angry rock, a sound
I don’t typically like and am not overly familiar with.

Red nods at the
doorman and drags me forwards without glancing back, leading me
silently through a gyrating crowd engulfed in smoke and a darkness
that’s lit in increments by lights flashing with the beat of the
music. There’s a DJ standing on a raised platform bopping his head
to a sound we’re yet to hear, focusing on his next
record.

Everywhere I
look there are people dressed scarcely in black - black leather,
black hair, black makeup and tattoos like art forms decorating
fleshy surfaces of bare skin.

Right now I’m
the Amish girl out on day release – spectacularly overwhelmed and
awe struck, stunned into incredulous silence. I’m torn between
wanting to leave, never to return, and wanting stay to see what
happens next.

I tighten my
grip on Red’s hand and speed up my steps to stay close to him,
petrified at the possibility of becoming separated. He stops and
looks over his shoulder at me, smirking. He likes that I’m
intimidated by this place. He likes that it has me on edge. Red
pulls me to him, grabbing my backside with large hands and grinding
my hips against his. He is hard - as in full on erection hard. From
what? Me being nervous and insecure?

His expression
is indifferent, almost cold, and it confuses me. I open my mouth to
speak, but don’t get the chance because he’s plunging his tongue
into my mouth, his hand knotting in my hair pulling almost
painfully to secure me in place.

When he’s done,
Red steps back and nods his head once in the direction he wants us
to go. And I follow without question. My heart’s hammering, and my
ears are pounding with my increased blood flow and the heavy beat
coming from everywhere. I’m afraid and excited. I know I can’t
trust Red. He’s bad news; there’s no doubt about it. But I follow
him nonetheless.

He stops at the
crowded bar and leans over the counter, yelling in the ear of a
thick set man wearing nothing but low riding, worn denim jeans and
a black leather vest. Not unlike virtually everyone here, he’s
covered in tattoos. They fist bump then the barman sets up a couple
of shots and goes through a side door that’s situated between a
disarray of kegs.

Red picks up one
of the shots, faces me, raises the glass slightly then presses it
to my lips. Instantly captivated, he can’t help but open his mouth
when I open mine to accept the drink. He likes it when I drink from
him, it turns him on. And I like that it does.

Instead of
drinking from him, I reach past, rubbing my hand across his abs and
take the second glass off the bar and rest it to his bottom lip as
he did to me and wait. Smirking his signature smirk, he sucks his
bottom lip before returning his glass to my mouth. I copy his
action, drawing mine in and slowly releasing it from between my
teeth.

We tip the
glasses at the same time, holding our breath as the burn slides
down. Red reaches behind the bar to steal two lemon wedges, then
places one between his teeth and kisses it into my mouth. I take
the fruit and swallow the tang, watching him bite into his wedge.
The flood of alcohol is blissfully clouding my judgement, taking me
further and further away from my hollow reality.

The thick set
man returns, securing the door behind him. He steps around the bar,
leans into Red and shakes his hand, yell/whispering to him. Red
nods once, sliding the hand he shook into his front pocket of his
jeans and moves closer to me, frowning, searching my face for
something. He presses a quick kiss to my mouth, leans over the bar
top and takes a bottle of clear alcohol and the two shot glasses we
used.

Holding my wrist
too tightly, he pulls me to a secluded booth in a darkened corner,
places the bottle and glasses on the tacky table top and takes hold
of my hips, rubbing himself against me, letting me know what I do
to him, what he wants from me. He leans his tall frame over and
bites a little too hard onto my neck and collar bone. Releasing his
hold with one of his hands, he pours our drinks, spilling some on
the table and dropping wet splashes over my ankles and onto the
floor. He lifts his and shoots it down fast, slams the empty down
and picks up mine. Grinning seductively, he rests the glass on my
lip and tilts it. I swallow his offering with a smile of my own. I
like this Red, the sexy Red that makes me feel wanted.

He repeats the
process, not that I need any more to drink, but I take it without
question, watching his smile, happy that I was the one to put it
there. He shoots another and takes hold of me again. Kissing me
deeply, he walks me backwards, bumping into people and mixing us
with the throng of gyrating bodies on the dancefloor.

He sways my hips
against his to a tune of our own, ignoring the powerful beat of the
deafening music. He caresses my back and butt, kissing me with
abandon. It’s wonderful. I’m lost in a sea of floating sensations,
of velvet touches and gentle stroking. I feel Red shift and take
something out of his pocket. Holding it between two fingers he
tells me to open my mouth.

I open my eyes.
“It’s all good, sweetheart. It’s only E. Nothing heavy. Nothing
real,” he assures me, placing the small pill on my tongue. I’ve
heard of E, but don’t really know what it is and don’t really care.
I swallow and start kissing him again, feeling Nirvana wrapping me
in a soft blanket.

After the
longest time, or it could be the shortest, Red picks me up by the
back of my legs, just under my butt. Automatically I wrap them
around his waist. He carries me off the dance floor, down a dark
passage and pauses at a locked door. Pressing my back against the
stained wall, he thumps on the blackened timber, tilting his head
to one side when I start to burrow around his Adam’s apple, kissing
and nipping under his jaw. I can feel his pulse thumping against my
mouth; at the same time, his hands start to explore my ribs and
under my breasts. He lifts me again when a very attractive blonde
woman opens the door to our right and holds it open for us to pass
through.