Still Surviving (10 page)

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Authors: A.M. Johnson

BOOK: Still Surviving
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“You’re too sweet, Cricket.” Sawyer brought his mouth to her full lips. She let him kiss her softly; she led the motion and deepened the kiss by pulling her teeth across his bottom lip. He groaned and her cheeks blushed. She pulled away from him and their eyes searched one another. “I love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

My stomach turned. I’d never know what that was like.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” I excused myself.

I moved quickly toward the bar, eager to talk to Tiffany. I hadn’t had the chance to say hi yet since I’d arrived late. Maybe some small part of me hoped she would have sought me out instead. The need to maintain my edge was for my own sanity. This whole falling at her feet shit I had going on was making me feel all out of whack.

Tiffany was smiling and laughing, and it was like a punch to the gut. Slowing my approach I noticed Scott, the tool bag from the tattoo shop, was here and flirting with her. My palm scrubbed down my face as I tried to reign in my desire to rip his throat out. I let the humid, sweaty air fill my lungs as I attempted a casual pace to where Scott and Tiffany were having their little chat.

“You’re free tomorrow night, then?” Scott traced his thumb across Tiffany’s knuckles and the acid in my stomach stirred.

Please say no.

“Yeah, actually I am. I just have inventory here until about seven.” Tiffany’s lips quivered into a nervous smile. My head started to throb as the blood rushed through my veins, making it hard to hear.

“I’ll pick you up, your place at eight. My friend’s band is playing at a bar up town. We can get a late dinner first.” Scott pulled his hand back and grabbed his phone out of his back pocket. “What’s your address?”

Tiffany began to speak. She rattled off her address and, just when I was about to walk off, her eyes met mine. I held her gaze, my pulse was threaded, my breathing rapid. Her lips parted as if to speak, and the slight tinge of pink in her cheeks paled. A shadow shrouded around her big hazel eyes, and I couldn’t take it.

“Shit, excuse me.” A tall brunette stumbled and her drink spilled down her dress. “Hey… I know you.” She grinned, her red lips spread across her overly made up face. Dark mascara encased her lashes as she blinked more than necessary attempting to flirt. “Lisa… from Ute’s Pub, I believe we met the other night.”

“We did.” I put my game face on. “Sorry about the dress, can I get you another drink?”

She leaned in and pressed her tits against me. The black wrap dress she had on was going to be easy access. I needed to get Tiffany off my mind and out of my blood. She had moved on. So why shouldn’t I? “I’d rather we start where we left off the last time I saw you,” she whispered suggestively in my ear.

My hand gripped her waist, and I pulled her hips into mine. “Follow me.”

I chanced a look over at Tiffany, and she wasn’t there. Again, that small part of me wished she was, maybe she’d stop me.
I knew she wouldn’t.

Lisa followed me through the back hall and out the back door of the bar. This alley way was always secluded. It was more temperate than normal… this would work just fine.

I took Lisa’s hand in mine and led her a few more steps away from the door.

“Out here?” She smirked at me and bit her lip.

“It’s this or nothing.”

Her smile widened. “This… definitely this.”

Her heels slipped in a puddle from the earlier rainstorm. My fingers dug into either side of her hips as I stopped her from falling.

“Thanks.” She giggled.

“Don’t thank me yet.” My hand fisted in her hair, and I pulled her head back with a light force. She moaned as my free hand trailed down the deep plunge of her dress pushing back her sleeve and the strap of her bra over her shoulder. My lips fell along her neck. She tasted like salt and sweat — I almost couldn’t stomach it.

I whispered in her ear. “On your knees.” My voice was rough.

“Yes.” The pulse in her neck was visible as I stepped far enough away for her to kneel down in front of me. Her pale knees touched the asphalt of the alley.

She was quick with my buckle, like she was used to this, like she’d done it a thousand times. I didn’t kid myself, she probably had.

The sound of my zipper being pulled down, the feeling of her warm breath against the tip, the moment she took me fully into her mouth, all of it made my jaw clench in pleasure. My fingers wrapped into her hair, moving her head at the pace I desired. The image before me, this girl with my dick in her mouth, her eyes watering as she struggled to take in my entire length, it was a powerful thing.

I let my head fall back as she worked me with her lips and tongue. The muscles in my arms constricted and the grip I held in her hair tightened. She began to move faster, and I wouldn’t last much longer. My breaths became fast and uneven as I got closer.

“Shit,” I growled and held her head still, my hips thrusted into her mouth as I came.

She stood and wiped her mouth after I released her from my hold. “Come here.” My hands framed her face while the pads of my thumbs wiped the mascara from under hers eyes. “Stay like this,” I commanded in a whisper.

My foot eased her legs apart as my right hand trailed down past her breast and down her hip. I slowly lifted the light fabric of her dress at the hem. She shuddered as I dragged my nails across her inner thigh and peeled her panties down. I reveled in the flash of anticipation that crossed her eyes. She licked her bottom lip as my thumb started to work in slow circles between her legs.

Her thighs began to tremble, and, just as she was getting close, the back door of the bar opened. I shoved her against the wall and dropped her dress. Tiffany came out of the bar with a bag of trash in her hands. She hadn’t seen us. I quickly zipped my pants and started to buckle my belt, the metal seemed to clang loudly in the quiet alley. I heard
her
gasp.

“Seth?” Tiff’s hazel eyes were wide in horror. Never, not once had I ever regretted a choice I had made. But right now, I’d do anything to take back the last ten minutes, to take back the look of disappointment on her face. Tiffany watched as I finished buckling up my jeans. Lisa giggled and pulled herself together as well.

“Tiff—“

“Don’t.” She interrupted me and shook her head. “It’s fine.” She threw the large white garbage bag she was holding into the dumpster. Tiffany didn’t look at me as she walked back into the bar. She didn’t look at me when I came back inside to say goodbye to everyone. She didn’t watch me dismiss Lisa like a whore. She just smiled at Scott as if nothing happened. As if she didn’t just catch the guy she’d just bared her soul to the previous night possibly getting fucked in a back alley.

Her indifference was warranted. She shouldn’t care about me; she shouldn’t want me. But I wanted her to. I wanted her to scream, yell, and call me a bastard. I had gift wrapped Tiff and handed her over to Scott with a bow.
What the hell had I done?

 

CHAPTER TEN

Tiffany

 

T
HE FAN IN THE
bathroom clicked and sputtered as it attempted to pull the steam of the shower from the room. I’d lingered longer than I should have underneath the warm water and now I was running late for my date with Scott. He was going to be here shortly, and I was standing in front of the mirror staring at my naked body. The image distorted by the fog. My hand wiped across the glass, causing small droplets of water to form and race along its surface. Last night played out over and over in my head. I wanted to be angry with Seth. I wanted to hate that he’d done God knows what with that skank in the alley. My eyes closed and all I saw were his hands fumbling with his belt, the same hands that had been so delicate with me the night before. But, I’d witnessed his clear blue eyes, eyes that couldn’t hide from me, freeze over when he heard me make plans for tonight with Scott.

Seth walked into Blue last night and went straight to Lizzie and Sawyer’s table effectively ignoring me. At first, I figured he’d drop in, say hi to them, and then come over to see me. But he hadn’t. Todd and Lily played for at least forty-five minutes and with every tick on the clock, my anxiety grew. Even if we weren’t going to become a
thing
, he was my friend and I was his. So when he never came over to joke and flirt like usual, I figured he was going to pull away completely and it crushed me.

Scott had saved me from my despondent mood. He was charming and made me laugh, not to mention the fact the guy had eyes that could set panties on fire from across the state. They were this crazy Caribbean blue, but heavy on the green side of the spectrum. To say he was muscular would be an insult to the word. Scott was built like a truck. He was tall, broad, and the cords in his arms, the heavy power his entire body held, did funny things to my sensibilities.

I laughed at my thoughts as I dragged my eyes away from the mirror. The smell of orchids filled the room as I slathered on my favorite lotion. I dressed quickly in blue jeans and a white T-shirt with an Andy Warhol print on the front. I slipped on some bangle bracelets and my two favorite amber rings. My hair was wet and there was no way I was going to have time to blow dry and straighten it so I chose to blow it out really fast and pull it into a side braid. At least my bangs were nice and straight. My hair had a natural wave… also known as frizzy as fuck if I didn’t straighten it.

Two quick passes with the mascara brush and some gloss and I was ready. My thoughts scattered, and, for the moment, I wished it were Seth that was picking me up tonight. I internally cringed for thinking such a stupid thought. After last night, it was clear; he was who he was, and I wasn’t part of the equation. Seth and I had been so complicated for so long, this was almost a relief. My chest tensed. The lies I told myself were getting more creative by the minute. My eyes stared back at me from the mirror with judgment. The knock on my front door made me jump.

The smile on my face was nervous as I opened the door. Scott’s smile was cocky as it spread across his face. Disappointment seeped its way into my brain on its own accord. He wasn’t Seth. Seth always gave me the most sincere smiles like he was blessed to be in my presence. This guy was looking at me like I was lucky to be with him, and my stomach dropped. I didn’t date co-workers; I sure as hell didn’t know how to date a man like this. All my dumb girl insecurities started to boil to the surface making it difficult to see what Scott or Seth had ever seen in me in me in the first place.

Scott was wearing dark blue jeans that hugged his thighs and the forest green, thermal, long sleeved shirt he had on was like a second skin. The muscles in his chest were prominent, and the rose and skull he had tattooed on his throat stood out against the pale color of his skin.

“Hey there… you look really nice.” The tint of his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Hope you’re hungry, I’m starving.” The cocky smile dissipated into a subtle grin. He looked vulnerable for about a half of a second, and in that moment, I reminded myself I needed to move on.

No one would ever be Seth. No one would ever light me up like he could. No one could know me like he did, but you can’t force feed love down someone’s throat. He was too blind to see what was right in front of him, and I was tired of being the guiding hand that walked his blind ass across the street. It was time to finally do something for me; like Seth had said, let go of the guilt, be happy for once.

“You ready to go then?” Scott’s voice wasn’t as deep as you would think it would be. It held a softer quality that didn’t fit with the image he had and it unsettled me. He reminded me of Colt for half a minute.

I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Yes, let’s get out of here.” I smiled and let him take my hand in his. The warmth of his massive palm connected with mine and it felt good. It felt good to have a man want me. My smile grew.
Just run with it, Tiff.
The words were familiar; it’s how I got through the doors of Blue when I first applied, it’s how I got the nerve to talk with Seth for the first time, and it was how I finally let myself believe I could be an artist.
Just run with it.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Seth

 

T
HIS SHIT HOLE WAS
much more appealing than I thought it would be. Blue Bar had huge storefront windows, the light of the sun filtered through casting a glow across the old wood bar top. It was modern mixed with age. The glass shelves were lit up with fake liquor bottles. The metal beams in the vaulted ceiling and the contemporary lighting were at war with the dank, gritty wood flooring and the bar top that showed its era. It smelled like cigarettes still and the Pine-Sol they used to clean with hung thick in the air but couldn’t hide the scent of time.

The place was deserted as Todd and I walked through the front door. “Seven” by Sunny Day Real-Estate was playing over the sound system, and I smiled. This was one of my favorite bands. Todd was so eager to move to Salt Lake that he’d gotten us both interviews at this bar. Apparently, the owner, Frank I think his name was, owned an indie record label and that was right up our alley. Music was my life, and Todd had talent in fucking spades. He was a born leader. He could turn this bar into something epic.

“Can I help you guys?” The soft feminine voice pulled my eyes away from my assessment of the surroundings.

“We’re here for Frank, we have interviews today,” Todd spoke in his low professional voice. He was always on point.

Me on the other hand… I couldn’t take my eyes off the tiny sprite behind the bar. She was so short. Her black hair shined under the lights. The sharp edge of her bangs highlighted her big hazel eyes, the same eyes that held my stare… the same powerful eyes that were tearing me apart. No fucking woman had ever grabbed my attention like this… she was unlike the girls I was used to; her eyes were too pure.

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