Kayden: The Past (19 page)

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Authors: Chelle Bliss

BOOK: Kayden: The Past
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“It’s okay, darling. I just like flirting with you.” She began to wipe the counter as I picked up my drink. “You’re at least twenty years younger than any other man in this place.”

I laughed and looked around. We were the youngest people in here; I guess I read into it a little more than I needed to. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to think I was leading you on, Cara.” I read her name tag before speaking.

“It’s okay. I love your mom, and she’s told me a lot about you. Sounds like you’ve had a rough time lately.”

“Yeah, you can say that.” Fuck, was my mom airing my dirty laundry all over the place?

“Go enjoy your drink. I’m here if you ever need to talk. I can keep a secret, too,” she said as she winked at me.

“Thanks, Cara. I’ll remember that.” I walked away and sat back down with the small group of my mother’s friends. I felt like they were my new family. They welcomed me and talked to me like they’ve known me my entire life. I never felt like an outsider but one of them.

“So, Kayden, when do you start working?” Sal asked as he grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl.

“Tomorrow, actually.” Not a moment too soon. I swear I was about to lose my shit in this town with nothing to fill my days.

“That’s excellent, son. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Sal. I can’t wait to get back to work.”

The chatter from the table filled the room. Everyone started talking about their past jobs and how happy they were to be retired. I couldn’t imagine sitting around all day with nothing to do. The last couple of weeks had been torture; I couldn’t imagine an endless barrage of days that held nothingness with no end in sight.

I finished my beer and said goodbye. I needed to get some rest and be ready to work my ass off in the Florida sunshine tomorrow. I was excited, like a kid for the first day of school. The shiny newness would wear off eventually, but for now, I’d ride the high.

I didn’t need to go through training, just a quick rundown on how they handle paperwork. I had enough experience under my belt in St. Louis that the boss felt comfortable sending me out on my own the first day. Thankfully, he scheduled me only half a load to get day one under my belt. It was uneventful and went smoothly. I was good at my job and learned the little tricks to make life easier. Some people did everything the hard way, the longest way possible to cut down on their work, but I wanted more. I wanted to have the most jobs possible booked in a day. I called the office after each install to check in and give my work order. A sexy voice answered the phone each time. “Jennifer, what’s your number?” I’d rattle off the digits and all the details, but into our third phone call of the day, it turned into chit chat. “You can text me the information too if it’s easier for you.”

I hate having to wait on hold; it was a colossal waste of time my time. “That would be great, Jennifer. Same number?”

“No, take down this number and put it in your phone. It’s my private line, a couple of the techs send me the info that way. It’s easier on everyone and quicker, too.”

“Thanks. I got it. I’ll send my last one through text.”

“No problem. Bye.” She said the bye in a sultry voice that caused my cock to twitch. I wondered what she looked like. The girls who worked the tech line didn’t work in our warehouse but in another location offsite. I’d never have a chance to run into her without a reason. I finished my last job and texted in the activation code to Jennifer to close out my day without waiting on hold.

Over the next couple of weeks, Jennifer and I began texting beyond activation codes and confirmations. The texting started innocently but over time led to flirtation.

Jennifer: One week and I finally get to meet you.

The company Christmas party was coming up, and I’d finally lay eyes on Jennifer. Flirting on the phone with a faceless person is easier when you have your own mental picture of their face and body.

Me: Why haven’t you sent me a picture?
Jennifer: I can’t do it on my phone. Hey, are you on Facebook?

What the hell is Facebook? I’ve never heard of it before; I’ve been so immersed in my own little world I often missed some of the newer things out there.

Me: What’s that?
Jennifer: It’s a website. I have a profile on there. You can see pictures of me on there.

I’d been told by some of the guys in the office that she’s good looking, but I wouldn’t believe it until I saw her with my own eyes. I rarely trusted the judgment of others when it came to women; my standards were usually higher. Although, it had been longer than I could remember since I’ve had my cock in someone. Danielle was the last girl I fucked, and I needed to move past her and open up a new world of possibilities. I needed to get on my game and live life like I did pre-Danielle.

Me: I’ll check you out when I get home tonight. ;)
Jennifer: I’ve got to get back to work, hit me up on there later.
Me: Will do, J.

I hoped that her picture matched the vision in my head. I almost forgot that night to look her up, but she texted me when she didn’t hear from me.

Me: I’m signing up now. Be patient with me. I’ve haven’t really used the internet much. Give me ten minutes.

I entered my personal information and skipped some questions not knowing exactly what the website did. After hitting submit, I started finding people who I hadn’t thought about in years. It asked me if I knew these people, and some I did. I sat there and stared at the screen surprised by the faces that filled it. Most of the people I hadn’t seen since high school. I hit the Friend Request button next to a couple of them and ended up at a blank screen.

Me: How do I find you now?
Jennifer: I’ll find you, one sec.

I sat there, and within a moment, I saw a tiny red notification at the top of the web browser. Jennifer’s name with a little picture appeared and I clicked confirm. I clicked on her name to find out more about her and to finally get a glimpse of her. She was pretty, not drop dead gorgeous, but doable. She had dark brown hair that stopped around her shoulder with blue eyes. She had on too much makeup, and her body was average.

Jennifer: Hey. I found you.
Me: I see that. What do I do on here?

I clicked on the search bar and started to look for people. I started with the guys from the wrestling team: Scotty, Freddie, and the others. They were all on here. I realized how behind I was.

Jennifer: You find people and can talk with them. Put your picture up. I want to see you. The girls in the office have a bet.
I chuckled. Had the girls been gossiping about me?
Me: A bet?
Jennifer: Yes, kinda like a hot or not bet.
Me: What did you say?
Jennifer: Hot. Your voice is so damn sexy, have to be hot.
I’ve known plenty of people in my life with the sexiest voices but train wreck of a face. I found a picture and uploaded it to my profile.
Me: Done. Hope you win the bet.
I kept searching for people I knew, people from my past. It recommended people to me, and I knew them. I started clicking on everything. Was this a hook up site?
Me: What is this? Is it a dating site?
Jennifer: Sigh, I win. I definitely win. No, it’s not a dating site. Just a place to talk and share your thoughts with others.

The flirting had been great, but I didn’t want a girlfriend. I didn’t need the hassle or the heartache. I needed sex more than anything.

Me: Jen, I need to tell you something. I’m not looking for a relationship.
Jennifer: Who said relationship? I’m just looking for a little fun. Look, I was in a relationship for years, and I’m not looking to jump back in.

Women always said shit like that but never really meant it. Feelings always got involved when it came to sex. For some people, it was hard to separate the feelings after being with someone in such an intimate way. It was like a switch was flipped when the cock goes in. I needed to be clear with her and not lead her on in any way.

Me: As long as we’re clear about this.
Jennifer: Perfectly.

I checked her profile out in more detail after she reassured me that she’s only looking for sex and nothing more. She had pictures of herself in her bikini posted, but what caught my eye were the groups and other things that showed up on her profile. Groups with sexual names and graphic pictures. I followed the links and scrolled through the photos and postings. Some of this shit was hot, and my cock grew hard just thinking about them.

Me: Interesting groups you belong to, Jen.
Jennifer: A girl can look too. I’m not ashamed.

I wasn’t in a position to judge anyone. What she did was her business. All I cared about is what she wanted to do with me. Facebook felt like an endless world of possibilities.

Jennifer: Sex is something I’ve never been ashamed to talk about or express. What’s good for guys is acceptable for girls, fuck the double standards.

She had me there. I smiled as I re-read her words.

Me: So, you want to hook up?
Jennifer: Yes, after the Christmas party. You game, big boy?
Me: You have no idea on both parts of that question.

I wouldn’t say I had the biggest dick out there, but I’d seen plenty of cocks in my time. Changing in a locker room allowed one to see more cock than they ever wanted to.

Jennifer: I hope you’re man enough to handle me.

Did she just challenge me? I could break her. Little girls shouldn’t play with new toys unless they read the disclaimer first.

Me: We’ll find out. I think I can ‘handle’ you just find. You’ll never be the same again after me, just warning you now.

I may have picked the right girl for some fun. She didn’t talk about feelings but wanted to talk about sex. We spent the night talking dirty; the conversation quickly going to the kinkier side of the fence. We shared our wildest experiences and hers kind of outweighed mine. I sat there stunned. I didn’t think a woman ever threw her dirty laundry out there like she had. She liked sex rough, and she made that perfectly clear to me. She didn’t want me to make love to her.

By the time I walked into the company Christmas party, I was ready for her and what the night held. She talked about things I’ve only seen in porn,
fucking hell
, I was game to try it all.

The party was being held in a local Italian restaurant. The company rented it out for the entire evening, and all drinks and food were on their dime. The company wasn’t extremely large, but there were a group of about fifty employees who did various steps in the installation process to make it run like a well-oiled machine. I joined the guys I’d become friends with at the bar and ordered a drink. I looked around the room looking for Jennifer, but I didn’t see her. Would she chicken out? Was she all talk and no action?

We swapped stories about some of our nightmare customers. Some women would answer the door in their robe and panties; I knew what they had on underneath because their robe was draped across their body, but they didn’t tie it closed. Some were so overt with their sexuality and flirtation. I never crossed the line and didn’t even think about fucking a customer. It’s instant ground for dismissal. The money was too good, and they were the only game in town. If I lost this job, there was no other company to turn to.

A tapping on my shoulder drew my attention away from the conversation. I turned my head, and Jennifer was standing there with a big smile on her face. “I didn’t think you’d show.” I turned around and soaked her in. Her picture did her justice. She was decent looking, and her kinky side drew me in where her looks might not have gotten her a second glance.

“Hell yes! I wouldn’t miss tonight for anything in the world.” She smiled at me with a devilish grin.

“Drink?” I asked.

She shook her head yes. “Margarita, please.” I studied her for a moment. A tequila girl, I like that. She had on a cute little polka dot sun dress and sexy red stilettos. She looked like a normal girl, but based on her sexual fantasies and experiences she shared with me, she was anything but normal.

“Margarita it is.” The guys seemed to know her, maybe she did it with all the guys, and I’m just not in the loop, I didn’t give a shit either way. Everyone stood around and talked about work. It was the one thing we all had in common. Our jobs didn’t give us time to chit chat about our everyday lives. We saw each other for only a few minutes while stocking our trucks in the morning and doing our inventory in the evening. Our vehicles were our office, and the road our worksite. It was the best type of job. No one gossiped or knew much about each other; everyone kept to themselves.

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