One to Keep (One to Hold) (5 page)

The sounds of the bar were louder now that the after-work crowd was growing. More groups of guys were forming half-circles, laughing and shouting, while televisions blasted a soccer game from somewhere else in the world.

Kenny suddenly dropped her hand and looked up at me. “Let’s go dancing!”

“What?” I shook my head, sitting up straighter. “I’m no dancer.”

“Come on.” She hopped off her stool and grabbed my arm. “There’s a club across the parking lots. It’s pretty much a wannabe rave, but it’s better than this sausage fest.”

With an exhale, I stood and fished out enough cash to cover our tab. Her story had mellowed my fight, and I didn’t feel like just sitting and drinking anymore. “You really want to dance?”

“Yes,” she took a long sip, squinting as she polished off the margarita. “I’m tired of being sad.”

* * *

In less than five minutes we were in the dark club. Electronic music blasted, and black lights illuminated plastic glow-stick accessories and anything white. Kenny went straight to the floor, rotating her hips and moving her arms in time to the music. I went to the bar and ordered another beer. For a while I watched her. Her eyes were closed, and her tiny body twisted gracefully in those crazy shoes. She seemed lost in the repetitive song. Then it morphed into something new, and her eyes opened to meet mine.

She walked to where I leaned against the bar and took my hands, placing them on her hips. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

Her hands went to my shoulders, and she swayed in front of me. In the flashing lights of the bar, all I could see were her blue eyes. She smiled and that dimple appeared.

“Your story beats mine by a longshot,” I said, unsure how I wanted to feel about her. The whole fact of us here, together, touching each other this way seemed out of left field. But at the same time, it wasn’t a bad thing out of left field.

Her eyes closed as she leaned into my ear. “What’s your story, Bingley?”

I shrugged. “Cheating fiancée. Fucking a guy in my building, and I caught them.”

Her voice was still at my ear. “Bitch.”

“Yeah,” I said, the alcohol making me talk. “She wanted something different, said I was too safe… whatever the fuck that means.”

Pressing my shoulders, Kenny leaned back, and her blue eyes held mine. “You’re not safe. You’re dangerously sweet.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

She smiled and ran a finger across my chest. “I bet you get any girl you want.”

My efforts to get Nikki crossed my mind. “Not always.”

“Buy me another drink.”

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Fuck that.” Her hand returned to my shoulder. “Let’s both be dangerous.”

My lips pressed into a frown, but I waved the bartender over and ordered a vodka for me, another margarita for her. She sipped from the salty glass, watching me with those round eyes, but I looked away. She was leaving in a week.

* * *

Another hour, another vodka, and I was dancing. We were both on the floor, and Kenny went from twisting in front of me with her arms around my neck to turned away from me, her skinny ass scrubbing against my dick. It was just fucking dancing. I wasn’t trying to get turned on, but I was never sure how that dance was supposed to be interpreted.

For the first time in a while, my insides didn’t ache, that residual sting had disappeared. It was like the last reminders of Stacy were gone, but I knew it was just the alcohol. I’d been here before, and the pain always came back. When the song ended, I was ready to call it a night.

I caught Kenny’s waist and pulled her to me, speaking in her ear. “It’s late—let’s take off.”

She nodded and followed me back to the bar, took a finishing drink as I paid, and then we left.

Crossing the parking lots back to where I’d left the car, I couldn’t tell which of us was working harder to walk a straight line. I won, but only because I wasn’t balancing on those heels. When we reached my Charger, I leaned heavily against the door.

“I can’t drive like this.” I said through an exhale, scanning the parking lot. We were the only ones out here, and it was dark. I didn’t like it. “Get in.”

She wobbled around the car, and I managed to guide her into the passenger’s side. Then I went around and climbed in, locking the doors. Kenny was busy removing her shoes, and I pressed my head against the headrest.

“It’s okay,” she said, sitting up and putting her hand on my shoulder. “We can just make out til we sober up.”

“Make out?” My brow creased. “What happened to ‘don’t get any ideas’ and you leaving?”

She shook her head and scooted toward me. “This is not about ideas. This is just about sobering up.”

The alcohol, I’m sure, made her logic seem reasonable. That, and her grinding against my dick was still pretty fresh in my inebriated mind. She put her cool hands on my cheeks and then slid them back into my hair. I leaned forward and lightly brushed my lips over hers. They were soft and warm, and a little salty from the margaritas. She smiled and pressed her mouth harder against mine, sneaking her tongue out and touching my lips before she leaned back. Fuck, that felt good.

I caught her face and kissed her for real then, pulling her full bottom lip gently between my teeth as I finished. A little noise escaped her throat, and it was like a match being struck. Our kisses turned fast and desperate, mouths opened, tongues collided. Her slim arms pulled her body against mine, and I lifted her easily into the backseat, not caring if we were still in the parking lot. We were in a dark space in the back, and I wasn’t stopping this.

I bruised her small mouth with kisses as she struggled to move higher on the seat to meet me. I should’ve been gentler, but dammit I couldn’t. The tiny moans coming from her throat told me she didn’t mind my roughness. She was as feverish as I was.

Moving my hands down, I caught the hem of her blouse and shoved everything up—shirt, under-tank, and bra. Her small breasts popped out, and I pulled a tight, pink bud into my mouth, sucking it hard.

“Oh, god,” she moaned, her fingers going into my hair, holding my head against her body. I kissed a line across the center to the other side, finding her other nipple, and sliding my tongue around it. That faint scent of sugar was on her skin, and she even tasted sweet. I moved up to cover her mouth again and noticed she was pulling on the back of my shirt. I took a second to lean back and whip it over my head.

“Jesus,” she hissed, reaching out to run her fingers down my stomach.

“What?” My voice was a hoarse whisper as I took a quick hit off her mouth again.

She turned her face, and I nipped her earlobe. “Your body… Oh, god.”

Her voice went breathless again as my hands worked to slide her tight jeans down her narrow hips. Working my way down to her belly, I kissed her flat, white stomach before reaching the top of her panties.

Any rational thought was gone. I’d been without this too long, and I didn’t care what happened when we finished. Her body was squirming, following my mouth, and I saw a small patch of dampness on the front of her blue thong.

“Fuck me,” I muttered, pulling it aside and sinking my tongue into her bare folds.

“Ohh,” she wailed as my tongue tasted her soft, warm clit. “Oh, god yes.” Her hips were bucking, and my cock was straining against my zipper. She was seriously getting off, and I was ready to plunge inside. Instead, I slid two fingers in, making sure. She was dripping, her inner muscles flexing as my fingers moved in and out of her.

“Oh, Patrick!” She wailed, grinding her hips as her hands went over her head to the car door and then just as fast back to my head. “Oh, god, don’t stop!”

I had no intention of stopping. I kissed and sucked her clit as she moaned and twisted against my mouth. My fingers worked her, in and out a few more times before moving to my jeans, quickly unfastening them and searching for the condom. I couldn’t find it.
Fuck
.

Her loud moans and quivering thighs told me she was coming. “Inside me, inside me.” She stretched her arms, pulling any part of me she could reach.

“I can’t find the damn condom,” I whispered, kissing her stomach.

“Forget it. I’m on the pill.”

That did it. I rose up and slammed into her. We both groaned loudly. She was hot and wet and so damn tight. My heels were pushing against the door as I pounded harder and faster into her, wrapping my arms around her small body as her inner muscles squeezed me again and again.

“Oh, yes,” she cried, slim arms around my neck. Her tiny breasts bounced against my chest with each push.

It was so good. I covered her mouth, kissing her deeply as I felt my building release. Breaking away, a deep groan rolled from my throat as I hit it hard, my ass tightening as my cock jerked with each thrust, going off inside her. She pulled me tighter and wailed, rocking her pelvis. She was coming again, and I kept pushing. It had been a while since I’d had a good lay, and damn if this didn’t feel like heaven. Her thighs were around my waist, and I didn’t care if we were just supposed to be making out or sobering up or whatever the fuck we were doing. It was worth it.

Her trembling gradually subsided as did my thrusting, and my hands went lightly to her hips, sliding over her ass and up until I was resting on my forearms, my face hovering over hers. I kissed her cheek where that dimple hid, I kissed her chin, then I went back to her lips. Little by little, our breathing slowed. Her eyes blinked open, but she didn’t speak. For a moment, she only studied my face. Then she lifted a finger and traced a light line from my forehead, down my cheek to my mouth.

That’s when I saw the tears.

“Whoa, hey,” I whispered, sitting up and pulling her with me, wrapping my arms around her and holding her against my chest. Her forehead dropped to my shoulder and I felt her jerking with sobs.

My chest tightened. I didn’t know what to do with this. Why was she crying? “Did I hurt you?” I was still whispering. “I’m sorry, it’s been a while. I was too rough—”

“No.” She sniffed, shaking her head. Another jerky breath. “You were great. It was amazing.” Then she broke again with a sob.

I was totally confused. “Then what?”

Her face lifted to mine, and the black eyeliner was running with the tears under her blue eyes. I cupped her cheeks in my hands and pushed the ugly tracks away with my thumbs. How could I make this stop?

She blinked and turned her face from mine. “It’s nothing.”

“Hell it isn’t.” My arms tightened around her, pulling her back. “Tell me.”

“Oh, god, Patrick. You don’t want to know.”

“I do.”

She paused a moment, still not looking at me, as if she were choosing her words. “It was,” she hesitated. “It was the first time… The first time I’ve been with anyone. Since Blake.”

Fuck. Okay, maybe I did want to know why she was crying, but shit. Now I didn’t know what to do. We were quiet a moment, and I held her until her tears subsided. Then I tried a neutral approach.

“It was your first time in almost a year?”

She pulled off my lap and slid to the other side of the car, bending her knees to her chest. I looked to the windows, and the realization of where we were hit me fast.

“Let’s go back to my place. We can’t talk here.”

She shook her head, looking out the glass. “I’d better go home.”

Reaching for my shirt, I slipped it over her head. “You’re spending the night with me.”

“No,” she tried to fight. “It’s too much. I’m leaving next week, and I just… I had too much to drink is all.”

“Fuck that. You’re sleeping at my place.” I pulled my jeans up. “No strings, fine. But you’re not sleeping alone tonight.”

She crossed her arms over her waist, and I reached for the seatbelt, pulling it across her shoulder and lap, and fastening it before climbing back to the front seat. We didn’t speak the whole drive, but I glanced in the rearview mirror a few times. She continued gazing out the window, and I couldn’t think of anything to say to make her feel better.

Finally, I had us in my parking garage. Helping her out, I gathered her shirt, tank, and bra all wadded into a roll, thanks to the way I’d removed them. She picked up her shoes and purse, still wearing my shirt over her jeans. Without her shoes, she seemed so small. Fragile.

“Come on,” I said quietly, leading her to my door.

Inside, I dropped everything on the couch. I caught her swaying a few times, and took her hand. “Take your jeans off and just sleep in that shirt.”

She nodded and bent down to remove her pants. I left her to go brush my teeth and find a shirt for me to sleep in. Moments later, we were in bed.

The idea of sex or making out was definitely off the table at this point, and all I knew to do was pull her to me. She didn’t fight it, putting her cheek on my chest. I tried to think of something comforting to say, lying in the dark, smoothing her hair off her face, but only one thought was circling in my mind. It was stupid, and I said it anyway, softly, like a mantra. “Bee stings… needles… rope burns…”

“What?” Her voice was quiet, weary.

“When Stuart and I were kids we played this game. If one of us got hurt, we’d try and name things that hurt worse. It’s stupid brother shit.”