Take My Hand (10 page)

“Last night?” She was doing this on purpose. She was hurt I know she was
– she’d just never admit it, not even to me. Rachel’s biggest fear is
being seen as weak or needy – or even worse, treated as being different.
I sometimes just wish she’d realise that when it came to me, her
best
friend,
she was allowed to fall apart a little. “So where’ve you been till this hour?”
she asked, conveniently changing the subject.

“Helping Dexter clean up his flat after the flood,” I admitted, knowing
full well she wouldn’t let this little nugget go unnoticed.

“And you’re really telling me your not lusting after The American?” I
noticed a couple of days ago she never uses his real name.

“We’re just friends. We have to study together, I can hardly ignore
him,” I protested because it was the truth. I think.

“Whatever, Ho. I give it a month before you’ve fucked his balls off.” If
gambling had been on the list I’d have put money on her losing there and then.
Being anything more than friends with Dexter was
never
EVER going to
happen for numerous reasons.

·
My vajayjay is broken

·
We were becoming really
good friends and Rachel herself had said that you can’t be friends with someone
you’ve slept and broken up with. I’d never risk losing one of the few friends I
have over something as unimportant as the S word.

·
Jared’s mentioned the word
‘player’ more than once regarding Dexter. He might well be friend material but
he’s most definitely not cut out for a relationship and I’m not a ‘one night’
kind of girl.

·
Shy, inexperienced girls
like me don’t get the brooding hot American on a motorbike anyway.

·
Did I mention my vajayjay
is broken?

“Emily and Dexter sitting in a tree…” Rachel started singing,
interrupting my mental Why I Would Never Sleep With Dexter list. Probably for
the best – it could’ve gone on for a while.

“I’d bet money on
you
sleeping with him before I do. I’m telling
you, Rach – not gonna happen.”

“Nah. He may be hot as fuck but I’m still holding out for your brother.”
She winked at me and it made my stomach turn queasy. She seriously needs to
quit it with the sleeping with my brother talk.

*Gag Alert*

“Damn. I was supposed to call him today,” I remembered. “I’ll be in my
room if you need me.” Stepping over the shards of glass I pulled my phone out
of my pocket and made my way to the bedroom. We were never going to get all
that glass picked up. There was so much of it I just knew we’d be finding tiny
pieces around the place for months to come – like with the pine needles
from real Christmas trees. And of course, it wasn’t going to be Rachel’s feet
they impaled…

“About time, Emmie. I was beginning to think you’d been taken by
aliens,” was the first thing Chris said when he answered the phone.

“Sorry. I’ve been busy that’s all. The student life is quite hard would
you believe?”

“I can imagine. Partying all night, sleeping all day and reading the odd
book must really take its toll.” I knew he was teasing because along with
Rachel, Chris knew me better than anyone.

He asked me how things were going with ‘the barman’ (he didn’t even
attempt to hide the distaste in his voice) and practically squealed like a
bloody sorority sister when I told him we’d broken up. I didn’t mention Dexter
– he’d assume things that were never going to happen just like Rachel.
Then he told me about this big deal with a car dealership he’d just landed for
his boss and I told him how proud I was of him. He’s going to have his own business
one day I just know it.

“So as a reward he’s giving me a week off. There’s even talk of a
promotion,” Chris continued. “So I thought seeing as I’ve nothing better to do
I might go visit my baby sister if she’ll have me?” I literally jumped off the bed.

“Of course I will!” It’s amazing how much you can miss someone after
just a few weeks. I don’t think I realised just how much until he said that.
“When are you coming?”

“It’ll be after the weekend. Probably Monday if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure it is! Rachel will be pleased too.” Oh God. I was never going to
hear the end of how gorgeous he was. How strong he was. How lickable he was…

Ugh.

“Look I’ve got to run. But I’ll call over the weekend and let you know
when I’m coming okay?”

“Okay. Can’t wait.”

“Take care, Emmie.”

“You too, big bro.”

I ran out to tell Rachel the good news the second I hung up the phone.

“Remind me to nip out for some extra-absorbent panty-liners before he
gets here.”

“Eww, Rach. Just… Eww.” And with that note I decided a hot shower and an
early night were in order. “You need help picking all this crap up before I
head to bed?”

“Errm, this ‘crap’,” she air-quoted, “is a masterpiece in the making.
And no thanks I’m not done with it yet.”

“Right well I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Sure will, Ho. Hope you have sexy dreams about The American.” Rolling
my eyes for the fifty-billionth time at her, I turned for the bathroom.

“G’night, Rach.”

Dexter

I
think it’s
pretty safe to say I like the hell outta Emily. I don’t think anyone has ever
made me smile so much my whole life as that girl did today. And I swear,
watching her on all fours on my floor working up a sweat while she scraped and
scrubbed, all I could think about was how much I wish it were
me
making her
glisten like that.

This
was a bad thing of course, and I would be monumentally pissed at myself for
feeling this way if I didn’t know that there was a perfectly rational reason
for it. I’ve not enjoyed a decent fuck in over three weeks – a quick in,
out and shake it all about in the men’s room at work just doesn’t cut it. So I
knew the only reason I’d had a near permanent hard on looking at Emily today
was because I was frustrated, and once I sorted that out tonight, I’d be able
to concentrate on us just being friends.

I
wasn’t on the roster at work for tonight but I said I’d meet Jared there to
hand him his key back. I planned to stay for a drink or two and then head on to
a nearby club or bar and check out the talent.

I took
a cab to The Blue Apple
 
- it was
easier than trying to find somewhere to park the bike - and settled myself down
on wrong side of the bar. Fuck knows why Mick didn’t sign me up for tonight
because as usual for a Wednesday the place was packed and Jared was rushed off
his feet. So much so I ended up getting impatient waiting for my drink and
ended up jumping across the bar and fetching my own.

I stuck
out waiting for Jared to come join me for twenty minutes or so but when the
crowd picked up even further I saw it as my cue to leave before I got roped
into helping. Yeah, I know that was pretty shitty of me but I had something
much higher on my list of priorities tonight – getting laid before my
balls exploded.

After
heading into the back room and tucking the key into the pocket of Jared’s
jacket I headed out the back door and walked to the nearest bar. Dynamite was
even busier than the pub and I had to dodge my way through a mass of
intoxicated assholes to get to the bar. When I’d ordered my ginger ale I looked
for a spot that was most likely to get me noticed then I perched myself on a
barstool in front of the glossy black bar but out the way of the cash
registers.

I was
getting the familiar winks and smiles before I’d even finished my first drink
and I knew right away this wasn’t going to take long. I had a hard time
deciding who to smile back at because I still wasn’t sure what I was looking
for. Obviously it was a Marshmallow or M & M but both brought their own
complications. The decision mainly boiled down to when could I be fucked
dealing with said complications. With a Marshmallow it could wait till morning
- the point where I’d have to put up with the whole ‘you’ve broken my heart’
puppy eyes. And an M & M meant I’d have to put the effort in tonight and I
just didn’t know if I could be bothered talking beforehand. I needed this
frustration outta me… fast.

In the
end – about four drinks in – I went with the method of picking
whoever approached me first. Fuck the rules or the consequences… it’d been too
damn long.

“You’re
looking a little lonely there. Mind if I join you?” an older woman –
mid-forties-ish – with ice-blonde hair curled half way down her back and
tits bigger than watermelons said to me.

“I’m
really only interested in getting laid,” I retorted, my eyes never leaving my
glass. I’m not usually such an ass about it, but I was so frustrated… with
everything. In fact fuck frustrated, I was in such a stinking mood I didn’t
really know what was bothering me anymore.

“Like I
said, mind if I join you?” Wow this chick was eager. Eager enough to get eye-contact
from me. My eyes wandered from her face down her arm and to her left hand. They
honed in on the faded band-shaped patch of skin circling her wedding finger. I
knew immediately she was on the rebound. She wanted a distraction and I was
more than happy to help her with that, because I needed one too.

“Your
place or mine?” I asked with my best flirting wink.

“I’m
actually staying in a hotel just around the corner. We could go there?”

“Sounds
good to me,” I replied without hesitation. A hotel huh? This was a new one. A
fancy fuck if ever there was one.

As for bagging
a cougar? Count. Me. In.

Mrs.
Eager had me stripped to my boxers before we’d even reached the bed in her
hotel room. Desperate to get on with it I ran my hand along her spine in search
of the zipper for her silver dress. Then I pulled it down as fast as my fingers
would allow, my lips on hers the entire time – devouring her like I’d
never been fed. But holy fuck I was ravenous.

Jesus.
Her humongous tits slapped me in the face as I shimmied her dress down. They
were obviously fake for three reasons:

·
No
woman has tits
that
round

·
No
woman over the age of thirty can get away with not wearing a bra

·
Did
I mention they were fucking ginormous?

Being
the gentleman that I am I gave them a little attention with my mouth before
scooping my pants up off the floor and plucking a condom from my pocket. I
carry them everywhere – just in case. It’s one of my rules you see
– only use my
own
stash. You can never be too careful. You read
about deranged women pricking holes in them all time.

She
pushed me backwards onto the bed and hovered herself over me. Seemed like I was
going to get all the fun with none of the effort tonight. As you can imagine,
you didn’t hear me complaining. My balls were throbbing by the time she lowered
herself on to me. Then I cupped those giant tits in my hands and threw my head
back while I waited for all my frustration to melt away. Yeah, this would get
Emily outta my head.

Wait up…
why the fuck was I thinking about Emily?

I had
another woman’s pussy sliding up and down my cock and I was thinking about
Emily!

What
the fuck was wrong with me?

Of
course now I was thinking about Emily I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Her
baby-blue eyes, her pale-cream skin, her fiery-red hair…

“Get a
fucking grip,” I muttered silently to myself. Or at least I thought I did.

“What’s
that, baby?” Mrs. Eager paused mid-slide and kissed along my stubbled jaw.

“I said
grip me tighter.” She appeared pleased with that response and increased her
riding speed by a bazillion miles per hour. Ah hell yes, that was doing the
trick. I definitely wasn’t thinking about Emily on all fours in my living room anymore.

Fuck.

Even
though Mrs. Eager was easy to lose – in fact she pretty much kicked me
out when we’d finished - it’s pretty safe to say that was the most frustrating
fuck I’ve ever experienced. Ironic really. Maybe even laughable. Except it
wasn’t fucking funny. Sex made everything better. The tension, the loneliness,
the remembering… so why was I still feeling like something was missing? Maybe I
was just tired from all the cleaning. I’ll try again tomorrow.

**********

Me:
Day out?

I hit send before I had chance to change my
mind. It had been so long since I enjoyed the company of another person and I
really
enjoyed spending time with Emily,
so selfishly I couldn’t stop myself. Yeah I know. This wasn’t going to aid the
whole ‘get her out of my head’ plan but somehow I’d managed to convince myself
that I could still be her friend by day, and then work my cock off trying to
quench the desire to take it further by night.

Emily:
???

Me:
I’m bored. Wanna hit the beach?

I was yet to visit a beach over here,
neither of us had lectures today and the weather was pretty decent - a little
overcast but apparently rain wasn’t on the horizon. So why not? I missed the
coast. Staring out towards a never-ending ocean never fails to remind you just
how insignificant you are. If you think you’ve got problems – ever get
too wrapped up in your own self-importance – visit the beach and you’ll
see exactly how small a part you actually play in this enormous world.

Emily:
R U being serious? X

Fuck me this could go on forever.

Me:
Yes! So??? Yay or nay?

Her next reply took almost ten minutes to
come through and I imagined it was because she was busy asking Snickers what
she should do. If Snickers had anything to do with the answer I received, then
she just shot up a few notches in my estimations.

Emily:
Sure. Meet you at yours in an hour?

Me:
I’ll be at yours in half ;-)

She wasn’t getting out of riding on the
back of my bike that easily. I couldn’t wait to feel her petrified little arms
quake as she wound herself tightly around me body like a snake.

Shit.

That right there is
exactly
the kind of thing I need to knock on the head. And I will.
A couple of Marshmallows and an M&M or two should do the trick.

Emily didn’t reply again and I had visions
of her running around like The Road Runner on crack as she tried to get ready
in the restrictive timeframe I’d given her. Little did she know the second I
hit send I was already straddling my bike.

No more than ten minutes later I squeezed
the bike into the tiniest space between a skip and a dumpster around the back
of her building. Tucking my keys into the pocket of my black denim jeans I
skipped (not literally) to the front and beat the knocker against the dark wood
door.

“Eager much?” Snickers asked, already
wheeling away from the door after opening it. Shit. Was I eager? Hell, who am I
trying to kid… I was all out fucking desperate. I’d had a taste of life without
the desolate loneliness numbing my brain and I didn’t want it to end.

“Crap you’re here!” Emily rushed out in a
fluster when she ran into the living room wearing nothing but a towel. Ah hell
no – this wasn’t helping my plan one little bit. She crossed her arms
over her chest as if I could see what was underneath the fluffy white sheath
obscuring my view. “I’ll just be a minute,” she added, scurrying back down the
hall and holding on to her towel for dear life.

“Good to see you too, doll!” I called after
her.

Wow this wasn’t awkward at all –
standing with my hands in my pockets trying not to let my eyes linger in one
place for too long – all the while feeling Snickers glare boring into my
flesh like a laser. In case you didn’t guess already – that was a lie.
The atmosphere was
so
awkward it was
suffocating.

“You better not fuck my girl then leave her
high ‘n’ dry.” Instinctively my eyes wandered to Snickers who was giving me the
evil eye as she assessed my whole body up and down. She was either trying to
work out how worthy I was of her best friend’s attention, or she was checking
me out.

“I have no intentions of doing that,” I
admitted honestly, never breaking eye-contact with her. I liked this girl a
little more already. She had Emily’s back and in my book that made her one of
the world’s awesome people – even if she was a whole lotta crazy. She
narrowed her eyes and stared into mine as if she thought looking hard enough
would allow her to see what I was thinking.

“Well good. ‘Cause I’ve just had a manicure
and I’d hate to break a nail ripping your balls off.”

After a good thirty second glowering
contest she straightened her back in her chair, flipped her straight pink hair
to one side and carried on flicking through the TV channels.

“I’m ready,” Emily announced, panting
slightly when she rushed through to living room in perfectly tight fitting
indigo jeans and a rich purple sweater.

“Thank fuck for that. This arsehole hasn’t
stopped coming on to me since the second you left the room,” Snickers interrupted.

“Wait I-” I started to protest and then
Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm.

“She’s just playing with you,” she said. Ah
so she was a funny one was she? Or at least one who
thought
she was funny. She should spend more time with Jared
– they were made for each other.

Naturally when we got outside Emily tried
to convince me to let her take us in the car. But where was the fun in that? I
wouldn’t get to feel her that way.
Dammit!
Why did I keep forgetting that Emily and I were just, and would only ever
be,
friends.

FRIENDS. FRIENDS. FRIENDS.

“So which beach are you taking me to?”
Emily asked curiously as she grudgingly swung one leg over the bike.

“Brighton,” I answered, locking my helmet
into place. I searched Google on my cell this morning for nearby beaches and
although Brighton was a good ninety minutes drive away, it’s apparently one of
the best beaches in the country. Plus, ninety minutes with Emily’s arms wrapped
around my waist-