Quake (2 page)

      Just like an angel swooping in to save me from the depths of my darkness, Janny appears on one of the screens. Her breasts are thrust forward as she removes her jacket and my mouth waters. I wonder what kind of sounds she would make as I suck on her nipples. Would she cry out or would she stay silent? Would she whimper or would she moan?

      She hangs her jacket on the coat rack by the door and moves into the spacious kitchen. When she grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and leaves the room, I scramble to type in the commands allowing me access to follow her movements throughout the house. I find her climbing the stairs and watch her ass temptingly sway while she walks down the long hallway to her bedroom. I press the necessary keys to bring the video inside her room up on my screen and settle back in my leather office chair to watch.

      She sets the drink down on the nightstand and toes off her sneakers. When her hands move to the button on her pants I sit up, leaning forward in hopeful anticipation of where this might go. When her zipper lowers, I hear it in my head. She wiggles her hips while pushing her tight jeans down and my cock jumps in appreciation. She steps out of her pants and leaves them on the floor, her long, pale legs carrying her across the room.

     
Oh Jesus
.

      She’s wearing a thong. Her ass is so fucking perfect I want to slide my dick back and forth between her cheeks and then thrust it inside her hot, wet cunt. Fuck. I’ve got to know what it feels like to be inside her—to be squeezed by her pussy when she orgasms—to mark her with my come.

      I push down the waistband of my sweatpants and boxers, freeing my hard-as-iron dick. When my fist closes around it I imagine Janny’s hand gripping me tightly. I start off slowly, taking my time as I move up and down the length of my cock, but the sight of her delectable ass jiggling while she moves around her room is too much for me to take. I stroke harder and faster; my fingers squeeze my dick while I fantasize it’s the walls of her pussy clamping down on me. My harsh breaths echo through the quiet of my office before turning into her name when I come. I clean myself up with some tissues and lean my head back in the chair. Shame seeps in, but I push it back because watching her is the only thing keeping me going right now.

***

      I agreed to meet my little sister, Kenna, at Quake, a popular bar in Boston. I can see every exhale of my breath in the crisp February night air as I walk toward the large, brick building that houses the bar. This isn’t a place I would normally come to, it’s not really my style. I’m more of a dirty and dark type,
kind of like my sexual preferences.

      I don’t want to get ahead of myself, we haven’t even met, but I can’t help wonder if Janny shares similar tastes with me. Does she like a firm hand? Does she want someone to take charge and make her feel more pleasure than she’s ever experienced? I long to see her on hands and knees, her ass pushed up toward me as she arches her back, purring contentedly. The thought of my hand connecting with that same ass has my cock springing to life. The force from my slap would ripple over her skin like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Christ, I need to stop these thoughts before someone notices my hard on.

      When I walk into Quake, my eyes instinctively scan the room. It’s not just a habit, it’s more like muscle memory. I’m clocking every suspicious person and logging every exit, in case the need for a quick escape arises. During my search, I locate my sister. I’m proud of her, after all these years she’s finally listening to all my repeated instructions. Knowing I’d make her move if she didn’t, she’s chosen to sit at a table in the back corner, less than twenty feet from the rear door. If trouble jumps off, she can cover the distance in just under five seconds. The rest of the civilians will all stampede toward the front at the first sign of trouble. They’ll bottleneck at the door, making it impossible for any more than a baker’s dozen to get out unscathed.

      I notice the brightness of Kenna’s smile as I approach the table. Her best friend Liz, who I happen to find annoying as fuck, is with her. I know by the end of the night she’ll be hanging on me, trying to start something that’s never going to happen—not in this lifetime anyway.

      “Kenny,” I say, using the nickname I’ve been calling her since we were little kids, as I lean over and kiss her on her cheek.

      “Hey Kyle, what’s with the gloomy expression? You look even scarier than you usually do,” she jokes, winking at me.

      My lips quirk upward in a small grin and I think about how she’s the only person in my life who can draw a smile out of me whenever she wants. I don’t give them out freely and most would probably refer to me as surly or anti-social. I wasn’t always this way—I used to be that guy. You know, the guy who’s the life of the party and doesn’t have a care in the world. I lived large and had no plans to change. While it was a somewhat selfish existence, I wasn’t hurting anyone. I’ve always been respectful of women, even if I didn’t want anything more than sex from them. I took advantage of what was freely offered, but what guy wouldn’t?

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kenny,” I answer, wanting to shelter her from how difficult the past couple of days have been for me with the inescapable pain from my headaches.

      “Hi Kyle.”
There it is—the most annoying sound in the world.
Liz’s nasally voice gives me chills and not in a good way. It’s like nails on a chalkboard.

      “Liz.” If there was a way to ignore her without looking like a rude fucker I would, but my parents taught me the importance of good manners.
I may be a moody asshole, but I’m always a polite asshole. “I’m going to go grab a drink are you guys all set?” I ask.

      I set off for the bar after they both nod, grateful for the momentary escape from Liz. The path to the bar is jammed up with a wall of bodies and I try to relax as a wave of panic overwhelms me.
This is another part of the “new” me. I never used to feel claustrophobic in a crowd, but now it’s all I can do to keep my feet firmly planted in place. I remind myself everything’s fine my teeth grinding while I fight the urge to flee. The press of all these people is beginning to get to me and I know it’s going to be ugly if I don’t get out of here as soon as possible. I duck my shoulder and push through the crowd like I’m back in my football glory days. My eyes adjust to the bright light of the hallway as I head toward the employee exit. My complete focus is on reaching the door and escaping outside into the cool, fresh air. I don’t see the woman coming out of the bathroom until it’s too late and we’ve already crashed. I catch her, my arms around her back an apology on my tongue.

      “I’m sorry.” I become speechless when I notice who I’m holding in my arms.

     
Janny Moore.

      Time freezes when my eyes meet hers for the first time. My tongue is thick in my mouth, my breathing shallow, my heart pounding impossibly fast, as I realize the exact shade of blue her eyes are. The name for the color comes to me in an instant.

      Cerulean blue.

      When I was a kid I loved to draw and my favorite crayon out of the large Crayola box was cerulean blue. I used it so much it wore down, finally snapping into two pieces. In all my thirty-three years of living, I’ve never seen anything in existence that matched the color of that crayon, until now.

      “I’m so sorry.” The sweet chimes of her voice pulls me out of my introspection and into the here and now.

      I realize my arms are still around her and I move my hands to her upper arms. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice comes out more like a croak than the baritone it usually is. 

      She smiles at me and I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Her lips are a shiny, dark pink color, the bottom curve is much fuller than the top bow shaped one. I want to bite it and then suck it into my mouth. I’ve never had such a powerful need to kiss someone, but I know it’s too soon. If I kiss her now, my passion will scare her and send her running from me. If I kiss her now, I’ll never be able to fucking stop.

      “I’m fine. I wasn’t paying attention when I left the ladies room. I’m really sorry.” Her voice has a melodic lilting quality to it and I never want this conversation to end.

      “I’m sure it was my fault, not yours. Don’t even worry about it.” I smile at her and let my fingers skim down her arms as they fall away. It’s incredible to be genuinely happy in this moment, I didn’t force myself to smile. I can’t remember the last time I felt this sense of exaltation.

      “Well, I better get back to my friend. Thanks for being so understanding.” She smiles one final time before she turns and walks away.

      NO.

      
I want to shout at her to come back. To ask her not to leave me. I’m not ready to lose the euphoric feeling being in her presence gave me. In that moment I forgot all of the things that weigh so heavily on me each and every day. They ceased to exist and for those sixty seconds of perfection, I was the Kyle I used to be and not this fucked up version of myself, I’ve been forced to accept for the past three years.

      When she disappears from my sight, the elation I felt in her presence quickly turns to despair. It’s sudden like the flip of a switch, but mood swings are part of my daily reality.

     
I don’t want to be here anymore.

      
I can’t walk back to our table and see her sitting with another guy. Once my mind’s made up, I send Kenna a text telling her I got called away for work. I leave out the door I was heading for when I bumped into Janny.

      I don’t go straight home; I stop at the pub I frequent more than any other. It’s within walking distance of my house in case I get too fucked up to drive and this might be one of those times. My eyes quickly scan the room. I need a drink and I need it now. My emotions are hanging by a thread and I want something to dull all this rage I’m experiencing. The bartender comes over to take my order as soon as my ass meets the stool.

      “Three shots of Jameson,” I say, before clenching my teeth, trying to rein in the urge to fuck someone up. Mainly the nameless, faceless guy who was at the bar with Janny. I don’t even know for certain she was there with someone, but why wouldn’t she be? She’s perfection, I can’t be the only guy who recognizes this.

      The bartender places all three shot glasses down on the bar and pours them quickly and efficiently, without spilling a single drop. I nod my thanks when he walks away. I hold up the first one, staring at the golden brown color and wonder what I should drink to. What is there in my life worth dedicating a toast to?
Kenny
. Kenny’s worth it, so I drink the shot in her honor. The liquor works in the best way possible, erasing any hope I have to be with Janny and numbing my painful headache when it travels down my throat. I tip the glass over and slam it down on the bar. One down. I pick up the next glass in line and dedicate this toast to my business partner and friend, Derek. I knock it back without hesitation. Hesitating is for pussies and I’m definitely not one. I flip it over and keep tally in my head—two down.

      I pull the third shot in my direction until it’s sitting in front of me on the rough, scarred wood of the bar. There’s no one left for me to drink this shot to. There are only two people in this world I care about and I’ve already toasted both of them. I stare down into my glass noticing the lights around the bar and how they reflect brightly in the liquor. This shot is for Janny Moore. She’s better off not knowing me. I’m not the kind of guy who’s good for her. What kind of future can I offer her when I’m a ticking time bomb waiting to explode at any second? I tip my head back as I swallow, this one burns less than the other two did. I need to stay away from her and let her be with the kind of guy she deserves. Some fraternity brother with all the right connections and endless possibilities for the future. Not someone damaged like me. She should be with someone her own age, someone who’s healthy and not bitter from the shitty hand life has dealt him. I flag down the bartender before I thump my empty shot glass down. I need one more shot for a toast and this might be the most important one of them all.

      The fourth and final toast is easier to come up with than I expected. Here’s to making it through another day without ending my painful existence once and for all.

Janny

      “Do you want another one, babe?” my friend Josh asks as he stands, backing away from the table we’re seated at.
I’ve reached the tipping point where if I consume another drink I’ll pass on over to the other side of drunkenness and if I stop now my buzz will soon wear off.

I stare at my almost empty glass as I weigh out my options and decide to quit while I’m ahead. I don’t want this night to end with my head buried in my toilet and Josh holding my hair back, although it wouldn’t be the first time he’s done it. He makes a hell of a hair holder and he’s the best friend I could ask for.

      “No thanks, I’m stopping now. Can you please get me an ice water though?”

He does this half wink-half chin lift to acknowledge he heard me before he walks away. Alone at the table, I think about the stranger from earlier this evening. I had the oddest reaction to him.  Crashing into him was like hitting a brick wall, only less painful. His arms around my back kept me from falling to the ground as my hands landed on his bulging biceps. Even through the thickness of his black sweater I could feel how solidly he was built. An apology fell from his lips even though it was clearly my fault; the sound of his deep, husky voice drew my gaze to his face—his devastatingly handsome face. His eyes were a warm shade of brown interspersed with golden flecks that perfectly complemented his thick, black, slightly curved eyebrows. His nose was thin and straight except for the slight bump on the bridge which made me wonder how it had been broken. Was he in a fight? Is he the type of guy trouble seems to find? Or does he seek it out looking for it at every turn?

      I quickly apologized, I didn’t want him to think I was rude. I’m not sure why it mattered so much what a perfect stranger thought of me, all I know is it did. When he asked me if I was okay, his concerned expression was so endearing that I found myself smiling at him. When he took ownership of the blame it made him even more appealing. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the effect of his smile. Tiny tremors ran through my body at the first glimpse of his straight white teeth and I swear I felt them all the way down to my toes. When I walked away from him I fought an overwhelming urge to turn and look back for one final glance.

      Josh returns to the table, a beer in one hand and my water in the other. We sit there in companionable silence drinking our beverages down. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. He leans over dropping a kiss on my forehead as my thoughts wander back to the mystery man and the regret I feel at not learning his name.

  ***

     The brightness of the sun peeking through the slats of the window blinds wakes me up or maybe it’s the muscular arm wrapped around my waist and the hard on digging into my ass that’s responsible. I move to turn over, but he pulls me close not allowing an inch of separation between our bodies.

      He rubs his cock against the crease of my ass as his mouth trails down the side of my neck. “I miss you,” he whispers huskily, before his mouth moves back to suck on the skin below my ear.

      My neck arches instinctively and my ass pushes back against him. We shouldn’t be doing this, I promised myself this wouldn’t happen anymore. It complicates things between us because Josh can’t separate the sex from his love for me. However, it’s difficult to think clearly when his hand is sliding down inside the front of my panties and slipping between the lips of my pussy. I moan when his fingers slide inside me and my hips begin to rock against his hand.

      His thumb starts to rub on my clit and I know it won’t be long before I get my release. His breaths are increasing in speed and leaving his body in quick bursts next to my ear. I can feel his hips thrusting behind me and I know he’s taking care of himself too. The thought of him handling his cock while he fingers me has me even more turned on and it’s only seconds before I erupt in my orgasm.

      His hips pump a few more times and he groans out my name before I feel the warm liquid of his release on my back. “Fuck,” he says, pulling his hand from my panties. “I know you didn’t want that to happen babe. I’m sorry. I woke up wrapped around you and it was like old times.” He slips his shirt off over his head and uses it to clean me up. He’s so sweet and I wish more than anything I could reciprocate the love he has for me. He and I were a couple for over a year and although I loved him, I never fell
in
love with him, no matter how hard I tried or pushed myself to.

      “You didn’t hear me protesting did you? It’s not that I don’t want you, Josh.” I turn over to face him so I can look into his light green eyes. I hate that being here with me is such a complicated situation for him. My hand cups his cheek while I take in the tormented expression on his face. I know what I need to do. “I don’t think we should spend time together anymore.”

      He cuts me off before I can continue, “Don’t say that, Janny. I can’t deal with you saying that, babe. I won’t sleep over anymore and I’ll keep my distance from you, but you can’t cut me out of your life.”

      My chest tightens at the thought of not seeing him, but I’m willing to do whatever’s best for him. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore. It breaks my heart to see you like this and to know it’s my fault. You deserve so much more than what I can offer you,” I whisper, “Stay away from me Josh, go find the girl who’s out there waiting for you.”

  ***

      “He’s so hot,” Elle, my best girl friend, says. She smiles at the barista in our favorite coffee shop and he winks back at her. We come here as often as we can. It’s near the B.U. campus on Commonwealth Ave. The atmosphere is great and the flirty banter between Elle and the barista makes me laugh.

      “Why don’t you just ask him out and get it over with?” I peer at her over the top of my cup while I take a sip of my coffee. I’m not sure what’s holding her back from making a move on this guy.

      She’s usually a man eater, going after and ensnaring whoever she sets her sights on. Once they’re caught up in her big brown eyes and double D’s they don’t stand a chance. “I like coming here all the time. If we sleep together it could make things awkward,” she says before biting into her chocolate chip cookie.

      “He’s adorable and he makes a great cup of coffee which could come in handy for the morning after,” I mention, practically.

      “Good point.” She nods her head. “And you know how much I appreciate a good cup of coffee first thing in the morning.” She smiles at him over my shoulder and blows him a kiss.

      I roll my eyes at how easy it is for Elle to get any guy she wants. I’ve been observing the unfailing phenomena of her luring them in for over three and a half years now and I’m still in awe of her mad powers of persuasion. “So, are you going to ask him out?” I steal a piece of her cookie off her plate when she glances over at the barista.

      “No, not yet. Maybe I’ll save him for my next dry spell.”

      I giggle because I can’t remember her ever going through a dry spell. Even as a freshman she was a force to be reckoned with, but now at the age of twenty-two she’s unstoppable. She tried to teach me how to flirt and how to use my body language to draw guys in, but it was an epic fail. Sexy is not in my DNA and somehow doing all the things she wanted me to do made meeting guys and getting to know them feel so contrived and phony. It may work for Elle, but it’s not how I want to act or who I want to be.

      It’s two hours later and I’m still sitting at the same table working on my laptop. Elle left about ten minutes ago, for a date with one of the guys who lives down the hall from us. I told her she’s making a mistake by messing around with a neighbor. When it all goes to hell he’s going to be right there in her face for her to see all the time. She seems to think it’s a great idea because of the convenience factor for late night booty calls. I love her twisted way of reasoning it all out. She’s one of a kind.

     The past few days have been filled with studying and working on a big group project with a few other students from my psychology class. I’m so focused while I sit here plugging away on it.                    

      I don’t notice the man standing next to my table until I hear the deep smooth tones of his voice. “Hi, how are you?”

      I look up distractedly still caught up in the research paper I’m writing on anxiety disorders to find the handsome stranger from Quake smiling down at me. He’s even more attractive in the lighting of the coffee shop.

       “I’m good, how are you?” I ask with a smile and wonder if I should ask him to sit down. I feel ridiculously awkward as he stands there and the uncomfortable silence stretches out between us.

      “Do you mind if I sit down?”

      Oh thank God.

      
I gesture with my hand toward the empty seat across from me. He’s such a large guy he makes the table seem half the size. We both remain quiet, silently taking each other in. My eyes roam from his short dark hair down to the groomed beard on his face. His lips are full and they lift up in a smile while I stare at them. I raise my eyes to find him watching me and feel the heat of my face flushing with embarrassment. How humiliating to be caught in the act of checking him out, but it’s somewhat of a consolation to know he’s been doing the same. 

      “I’m glad I noticed you sitting here. I didn’t get your name the other night and I regretted it.” He keeps his eyes on mine while he speaks, his stare is so direct it’s intimidating. It makes it seem like he wants me spread out on top of the table so he can do immoral things to me.

      I fight the urge to squirm and fidget in my seat like an inexperienced teen. Jesus, I’m twenty-two years old, not sixteen. I’m not a professional flirt like Elle, but I’m not usually this uncomfortable around attractive guys. Saying I find him attractive might be understating things though. This guy might be my idea of physical perfection. I’m drawn to large, muscular guys like him. They make me feel safe and protected.

      “I’m Janny, Janny Moore,” I say, extending my hand forward for him to shake.

      His large hand engulfs mine as he shakes it firmly. His palm is warm against my skin and it makes me wonder what his hands would feel like moving over my body. Would his touch be soft or firm?  “Kyle McKenzie,” he introduces himself before letting go of my hand. “It’s great to meet you, Janny,” He places his folded arms on the table, leaning toward me.

      I like his name. I recite it in my head, it feels like a good fit for him. “Thanks, you too,” I shyly smile at him. Jesus, he’s so gorgeous I can’t focus long enough to organize my thoughts.

      “I’m guessing you’re a student,” he says, nodding toward the textbook and laptop on the table.

      My head moves up and down in a nod while I nervously twirl my hair. “Yes, I’m a senior at B.U.”

      “I want to ask you what your major is, but that’s so cliché.” He smirks and I giggle at his honesty.

      “You don’t need to ask, I’ll tell you. I’m going to school for graphic design.”

      “Are you an artist?” His eyes skate slowly over my face and I notice how golden they appear today. Our quick interaction at Quake didn’t do them justice.

      “No, I’m only artistic with a computer to help me. I can’t draw or paint very well.” I pause to take a sip of my coffee and think about what I want to ask him. “What do you do for work?”

      He shifts in his seat before answering. “I’m a private investigator.”

      My eyebrows rise up in surprise. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a P.I. before. Do you have to be a cop first?”

      He looks away and runs his fingers through his hair before answering. “No, you don’t, but if not you’d need to apprentice under another P.I. before you could get licensed.”

      “Is that what you did?” I ask and immediately regret it when I notice him tense up and the strange expression on his face. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy. You can ignore my question if you don’t want to answer it.”

      “No it’s fine, I don’t mind,” he hesitates, raking his teeth over his lip before continuing. “I used to be a cop, so no apprenticeship was necessary.”

       Although I’m curious to know more about why he isn’t on the force anymore, I’m not going to ask. It’s obvious this is an uncomfortable subject for him.

      “Do you live around here?” I ask, trying to get the conversation flowing into neutral territory again.

      “Yes, about ten minutes from here. What about you? Do you live near school or do you commute?”

      The way he leans forward when I speak makes me feel like every word I say matters to him. His golden brown eyes lock on mine with such concentration it gives me a nervous flutter in the pit of my stomach.

      “I live in an apartment near school with my best friend,” I pick up my coffee and take a sip, just for something to do. I don’t know how much longer I can sit here under his close scrutiny.                

      He’s making me uncomfortable in the best of ways and leaving me with damp panties. His lips add a hint of softness to his sharp featured face. The hair on his lower jaw grows thick and dark and I fight the urge to reach over and run my hand down it.

       I’m curious to know if it’s rough or if it’s soft, like I hope it is. What would it feel like against my inner thighs? Would it tickle or scratch my tender skin? My eyes lower to my lap as I remind myself this isn’t the time to become involved with anyone. School is my main focus and it’s what works best for me. I close my laptop, placing it in my bag.