Match This! (The UnSocial Dater#1) (3 page)

“I don’t think he recognizes me,” she sighs.

“You two join giblets?” I ask.

“No we did not join giblets,” she says as if she is offended and Josie laughs. “Oh god you’re both drunk. Can’t either of you hold your liquor?”

“While you’ve been holding yours we’ve been drinking ours,” I tell her.

I watch her as she watches him. He walks across the bar where he is greeted by a bunch of other guys.

“Freshman crew hopefuls,” she says.

“Like a gang?” Josie asks.

“Crew, rowing,” Cecilia tries to explain and Josie shakes her head still not knowing what she is talking about. “A boat?”

“Like a yacht club?” Josie asks.

“No, a big long row boat,” I explain. “It’s a team sport, pretty big here at Harvard.”

“Where exactly are you from?” Cecilia asks her.

“Beaverton Michigan,” Josie smiles proudly. “Go Beavers.”

I nearly choke as I try not to laugh. “Let me ask, was your mascot the leave it to beaver type, or Wynona and her big brown beaver?”

“It was just a regular beaver,” she smiles, cluelessly.

“Where did you go to school, Kat?” Cecilia puts a dam up on the beave conversation.

“All Academies,” I answer.

“Private school?” Cecilia asks.

“Yes, private, all-girls school, until 11 and 12
th
grade. Where did
you
go?”

“Phillips Andover Academy,” she answers and looks back at,
Blaine Hawthorne
.

“Favorite TV show?” Josie asks.

“Are we doing the getting to know each other shit faced at a bar?” I take another drink.

“I don’t think we could get her out of here if we tried,” Josie nods towards Cecilia. “Greys Anatomy is mine.”

“Super Natural,” Cecilia answers all breathy like.

“Prison Break,” I say and they both look at me. “
What?
It’s freaking amazing.”

“Thank you for having me,” The one-man show says as he stands up and exits the stage.

The jukebox immediately starts up and Cecilia stands, “Let’s dance.”

“No way,” I laugh as she grabs mine and Josie’s hands.

“Don’t Lie by the Black Eyed Peas is playing and no one is dancing. That has to be against the damn law.”

Unable to fight, why? Because I’m fucked up that’s why. Drunk, I chuckle inwardly, not giggle, that’s just stupid. The monster would flip, I should call her. I’m cracking myself up. I’m fucking drunk. I’m a sinner. I like it. I like it a lot.

I follow the self-appointed leader, of this fucked up threesome, Harvard’s residential committee threw together.

I can dance, or at least sway to the rhythm. And because I am full of
I don’t give a fuck
, via, at last count, six shots of Jose Cuervo, I am not hiding, even though I think dancing in a bar is just asking for trouble, and trouble is my middle name, well Anne, and Teresa, but you get the point. My Josie is doing the awkward side step and clap move, typical white girl.

The dance floor slowly begins to fill up

Naughty Girl, by Beyoncé, starts up. My hands are up in the air and I begin to shake my ass. Darby and I used to dance around my room to this song as a joke.

Cecilia dances like she’s in a cage but with clothes on. The fact that she’s doing it in six-inch heels is pretty impressive. It’s not long before she has some guy behind her with his hands on her hips. It’s not
Blaine Hawthorne,
but it’s one of his kind.

Then there is Josie. I grab her hips from behind and she looks over her shoulder in shock.

“Still not a lesbian, but you need to move these things, like you’re fucking.”

After she gets it I step around her and take her hands, which were spastically moving once in a while when she remembered they were there.

The song stops and I hear the first note of what I know is Green Day, why do I know it’s them? “I fucking love Green Day,” I yell and grab Josie’s hands. “Forget whatever I told you before, you don’t fuck Green Day, you let Green Day
fuck you.
”

The dance floor fills up now, it’s exciting, “I found my people!” I scream into the abyss, the rabbit hole, the...bar? Aw fuck it.

‘Hear the sound of the falling rain, coming down like an Armageddon flame, Hey!’ The entire place is singing, hands raised, and jumping. I all of the sudden have the urge to jump up and dive on everyone.

Until I see
Blaine Hawthorne’s
six-foot body smashed up against...the wrong roommate. His hands are on her hips and he draws her tight against him.

This is not good, not good at all. Girls are bitches, naturally, but when one calls dibs and dibs is not taken seriously, bitch turns to cunt real quick.

I look behind me and Cecilia is sucking face with the
Blaine Hawthorne,
look alike. I look back and Josie is now turned around.
Blaine Hawthorne’s
, hands are still on her hips and she is looking up at him, like a star struck little kid. He’s looking at her like a man who knows she’s swooning. Smug bastard!

Hands grip my hips and I look behind me, “Grumpy, what the fuck?” I pull away.

He grins like the little perverted fuck he is. Seriously dude is pitching a tent...a pup tent.

“Looks like the night backfired on you. They found dick. I wanna let you know you can pretend I’m a woman when I’m between your legs licking your pussy but when you need more and I don’t have a double headed dildo like you’re used to, I’m gonna tear you apart with my dick.”

“Listen, Midget Mike, I’m in no mood for you or that thing you think is gonna tear me up. News flash, my first vibrator, the one that came with training wheels, is bigger than your dick.”

“So you need a horse cock to fill up the Grand Canyon?”

I reach up to slap him and I get yanked back and hit what feels like a brick wall. “What the fuck!”

“I’m enjoying myself watching you bounce around on the dance floor. You get kicked out for hitting him and I won’t be able to-”

“He fucking deserves it.” I turn around and all hell breaks loose between my legs.

I am looking at Wentworth Miller’s twin, or double, or I don’t know, I’m fucked up and I know damn well it’s not him, but holy mother of all doppelgangers.

“Maybe you could get him back a different way?” His lip curls slightly up on the side.

“Who?” I completely forgot why I am irritated because of the throbbing between my legs and Wentworth’s doppelganger in front of my eyes.

He leans in and kisses me. “Maybe something like that?” His breath is hot and smells minty. “Maybe end at my place, between my sheets, with nothing between us.”

I’m not sure if it is liquid courage, the fact that he’s hot as hell, that my southern kitty is purring, and what little restraint I normally have apparently was left back in New York, but I run my hand down his stomach and keep right on going until I am gripping Wentworth Jr. in my hand.

His eyes become slivers and his lips come down on mine.

His lips are soft like pillows and wet like my vagina. The room is spinning as his tongue rubs up and down mine. His hands take the sides of my face and he slowly pulls away from the kiss.

“Are you trying to get me arrested?” he says still holding my face.

“Of course not.”

“Then you need to stop before I take you on this dance floor.”

My hand immediately freezes when I realize I am still stroking him through his pants. “My bad.”

“How bad are you?” he says in a thick I want sex voice.

“Badder than Michael Jackson.” I say, which is a total line of shit, but saying it certainly makes me feel like being it.

“How far away is your place?” He asks.

“Fifteen minutes,” I answer really not knowing if it’s true or not.

“I’m three,” He says as his thumb strokes my lower lip. “Look I don’t do this, hooking up at a bar thing, and I am not ready for a relationship, I just got out of one. But what I feel just looking at you, is impossible to ignore.”

“You were feeling it on the outside too,” I shrug.

“No, before that. I just,” he takes a deep breath, “I just want to make you feel good, sexy, desired.”

“Well, those are all great things.” I say because I have never in my life had someone say things like this to me.

“What’s greater is you are obviously wildly attracted to me too. Together, we could have an amazing physical relationship, and be friends, hell someday maybe more, but right now, the universe has aligned for us. I feel it, you feel it...come with me.”

He doesn’t have to ask me twice.

I look over at Josie with Blaine still staring at her like a lion would a little Gazelle, and then Cecilia who is basically fucking the Blaine look alike not far from her.

“Give me a minute,” I say almost afraid to leave Wentworth in fear it’s a drunken illusion.

But I do.

“I’m taking off, meet you back at the dorms,” I say and Josie just nods, still looking up at him now like a gazelle who would allow the lion to tear her up. I say, good for her.

Cecilia is not happy, “You don’t even know him,” she says as Blaine’s look alike kisses down her neck and his fingers push up her skirt.

“And you know him?” I laugh.

“I know he goes to school with us, don’t you baby?” she asks fisting his hair in her hands.

He lets out an audible, ‘Mmm hmm.’

“Aren’t you the same girl who said to stay away from the ivy tower punks and grab a Beantown stud?”

She glares at me when he pauses and I am satisfied she’ll let me walk away without further incident or lecture, “I’ll be back before closing.”

As soon as we’re outside the bar he pins me against the wall and kisses me. I am falling, down, down, down the rabbit hole.

I’m drunk, loaded, and he taste like bourbon, I like it. The buzz intensifies. I find my hands knotting in his hair. His arm circles around me, his other hand pushing my ass against his erection.

I grind against him and his kiss deepens, intensifies, making me moan.

His hands both pull me towards him as he walks backward, still kissing me.

It doesn’t register in my lust filled drunken mind that I am walking until I nearly trip, breaking the seal of our kiss.

His hands cup my ass and he lifts me, “Legs around me.”

My disdain for fashion and my mother’s insistence on me wearing a skirt paid off, Maxi skirts are stretchy as hell.

****

My back hits the door of his first floor apartment and his lips pull away from mine. He lowers me and my feet hit the floor. His eyes are dark and lust filled. He’s in a haze, just like I am.

He pulls his keys out and unlocks the door. I turn to walk in and he stops me by grabbing the collar of my white unbuttoned button down.

“You come in here, you don’t leave until I’m done with you,” he says intensely.

“Is that a threat? If so I’m not afraid. Not one bit.”

“Good,” he let’s go of my shirt and walks in.

I follow.

“Get naked,” he says as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it on the small sofa in his living room.

I hesitate and he shakes his head, “Why is it that, all of the sudden, the girl climbing me and rubbing on me as I carried her seven blocks, is now acting like a little school girl?”

I shrug, “Maybe I’m more a fan of public displays. Why don’t you take me back outside and let me ride you on the sidewalk as cars drive by?”

His eyebrows raise and he bites his lower lip while looking me up and down. “You may be into that but I prefer my private life be a hell of a lot less...social.”

“Well then we’ll have to compromise. I’ll ride you in here if you get me naked.”

“A woman who likes the build?” He runs his hand through his hair and looks me up and down slower this time. “I like to fuck, blow off steam, get right to it. So if I’m compromising, by taking my time undressing you, next time you walk through the door, the clothes better hit the floor before your back hits my bed.”

“I’ve heard talk of this bed twice now, yet I don’t see it, and my clothes are still on.” He steps to me and pushes the shirt off and then grabs the hem of my tank top and pulls it over my head.

“No bra,” he groans. “I knew it.”

His mouth is on my tit immediately. His hands push my skirt and underwear down as he moves from one breast to the next and I feel the pulsing between my legs start to intensify.

I am completely and totally naked and he is devouring my tits. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on, bracing myself for what it is I think I feel coming.

Think I feel? Yes.

I, Katherine Anne Brun, Catholic schoolgirl, am a dirty talking, internet porn browsing sex fiend, who has never actually had sex.

I hear a thud and his pants hit the floor. His hands grip my ass and he lifts me up. Without warning, he impales me and stills.

“Jesus,” he hisses as his hands grip my ass. “Don’t fucking move or I swear I’ll blow. Fuck girl, has anyone ever told you your pussy is insanely tight?”

I let the booze fuck my head enough that I don’t feel the pain from the fucking below. “Uh huh,” Is all I can say.

It’s not a lie; I’ve been fingered by guys and I’ve given a blowjob or two, okay exactly two. I’d just never given it up, until Jose’ Cuervo, Harvard, and Wentworth Miller, helped decide I should.

“If your pussy is that tight I can’t even imagine what your ass will be like.”

“You about to fuck me like you promised,” I ask because, one, I know after the initial pop and stretch passes the bump and grind takes place, and the pain and pleasure mingle and cause one hell of a party, and I’m ready to party.

His laugh is dark and malicious as he walks us through the small apartment. With each step his dick moves inside me and I begin to get a taste of pleasure.

It’s fucking delectable. I knew it would be.

He pushes open his door and walks to the bed. He sits on the edge and his eyes roll as I descend further down him.

I sink my nails into his back, “Easy tiger.”

Says the man whose dick didn’t get the memo to go easy.

His fingers bite into my hips as he rocks me slowly back and forth at a nice easy pace.