Trigger (3 page)

Dylan

I had a sip of the ice water the bartender had brought us to regain my bearings, pissed at myself for letting this girl get to me so easily. I knew just her type. Girls who hated all guys because some dude had done a number on them and subsequently had devoted their love lives to ensure every guy they dated would be reminded of what asses they really were, as if all guys were one and the same. I conveniently pushed away the fact that, pre-Emma, I myself used to be one of the guys who treated girls poorly. Well, I could play this game, too. I turned to face her. I had to admit that, although annoying as hell, I found her incredibly sexy. She was pretty in an unconventional way with that long dark hair and the sassy face with the hazel eyes that were a touch slanted, as though she was part Asian. They glittered with mischief one minute, sensuality the next.

“Do you typically have multiple orgasms?” I said evenly, as if this was something I discussed on a regular basis with girls I had recently met.

She raised her chin, looking straight into my eyes, blinking slowly. “That depends on the man. If he knows what he’s doing.”

“Makes sense.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Her eyes flashed with interest.

I laughed. Well, if this was the way she insisted our date should go—straight into the sexual realm—who was I to object? I wouldn’t mind ending this date with some sex. It had been several months since I’d gotten laid. By Emma. The day before she sent me a text, telling me it was over. My stomach twisted. I immediately pushed away the uncomfortable memory by focusing on the girl in front of me, who was looking at me expectantly. Yes, I would definitely take this one to bed tonight. She would hopefully be as good a lay as her demeanor implied she was.

“I think I can hold my own,” I said. “But ultimately, it depends on the girl.” Should I add what I was thinking—if I found her hot enough in bed—or would that be too much too soon, even for this chick? Before I had made up my mind, Nina said, “Why’s that?”

“Well, the more she turns me on, the more inspired I become. Meaning, I’ll try harder to please her.”

“I’m sure with me you’d feel
plenty
inspired…” She gave me a long, lusty gaze and licked her pouty, nude-painted lips slowly.

I stared at her.
Was this girl for real?
I didn’t think I had ever met any girl who was this forward. She was obviously looking for us to have sex sometime soon, like in the next hour in the restaurant’s bathroom, the way she was acting. Or was she kidding? I couldn’t be sure. After all, she was an actress and I didn’t know her at all. I had another large swig of beer while pondering this.

She threw her head back, letting out a loud laugh. I watched her, thoroughly confused. When she was done laughing, she wiped her eyes with the back of both her hands.

“Oh, my God,” she said. “You should have seen yourself! Your eyes were, like, this big.”

She spread her eyes wide by placing her thumbs under them and her index fingers on her eyebrows. “I was just screwing with you! You actually thought I was serious, didn’t you?”

I didn’t know what to say. This girl was beyond annoying. I wanted to ask the bartender for the check, pay and leave, but for some reason I couldn’t make myself do this. I suspected part of it had to do with the fact that such an act would make this girl crack up even louder, laugh her ass off at my expense. I also suspected that she was right—she
would
make me feel plenty inspired in bed. And I was pretty sure she would like what I did to her there as much as I’d like doing it…

I had a feeling I would get the chance to test out my theory fairly soon.

Nina

I wondered if Dylan had any clue how unnerved he’d looked when I said those last words, topping it off by looking at him like I wanted to do him right then and there, licking my lips like a seasoned hooker. He had actually thought I was serious! He obviously had no sense of humor, just like I had thought.

“Well, I have to admit that I wasn’t sure there at first,” he said, clearing his voice. “You’re definitely a good actress.”

“Well, let’s
hope
I am since it’s what I do for a living.” I contemplated him for a moment. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him then. It wasn’t his fault he was so uptight and boring. I better be a little nicer or he might break. “So, where did you go to college?”

“Princeton undergrad and Harvard law.”

I hadn’t expected any less. “Impressive.”

“Thank you. I’m very fortunate. What about you? Where did you go to college?”

“Santa Monica College.” I watched him carefully, sure I’d see him flinch at hearing I’d gone to a community college, just like every other guy of his kind did. To his credit, he kept a straight face.

“What was your major?” he asked.

“Communication. But I never finished.”

“You dropped out?”

“Yeah. After two and a half years. I didn’t see the point in having a college education when I knew I wanted to become an actress. Entertainment is a young field, so I figured I’d give it my all while I’m still young. I definitely made the right decision. For a twenty-three-year-old, I’m doing great.” I blinked, annoyed with myself for having sounded so defensive. So I could be doing better than I was—a
lot
better—and maybe dropping my classes hadn’t been my smartest move, but that didn’t make me a loser. I was definitely not a loser.

“So you’re making enough money acting to support yourself then?”

I could tell from the tone of his voice he didn’t think this was the case. And he was right.
Damn
. But for some inexplicable reason, I couldn’t make myself lie to set him straight.
Well, I shouldn’t be ashamed of the truth anyway
, I thought. Clearing my voice, I raised my chin. “Not quite. The national commercial I did was a buyout unfortunately, which means I just got a one-time fee for doing it. And parts in independent movies don’t pay that well. So I also wait tables to cover some bills.”

“Makes sense. Where do you wait tables?”

“McCormick and Schmick’s. The one at the end of Rodeo Drive.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve gone there for lunch a few times. I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“Must have been on my days off. I only work two lunches a week, and two dinners.”

“Got it.”

A tense silence followed that Dylan filled by asking me if I wanted another drink. I knew if I had another martini, I’d get drunk, but I didn’t care. I could use getting buzzed to forget how I’d completely screwed up yesterday, reading for a part that seemed to have been tailor made for me. Forget that maybe I’d always be a waitress if I didn’t get a better agent soon, got a role that made a difference in my career. I’d sip my martini while doing some more boring small talk with Dylan, slowly turning the conversation back to more exciting topics, flirt with him until it became clear to him what I had in mind—to get him in bed. And this time it would be for real. I didn’t doubt he’d be a willing participant the way he was staring at me.

By the end of my second martini, I was buzzed just like I had thought, and in the mood to really put the moves on Dylan. Alcohol always made me more confident. The second beer had managed to loosen him up a bit, too, making him more easy-going. He was definitely even more good-looking now as seen through my alcohol-soaked brain. Looking at him was like looking at a model out of a Ralph Lauren ad, his face was that perfect.

“You should have become a model instead of a lawyer,” I said, putting my hand on his knee and leaning into him.

Dylan laughed. “I’d rather leave that kind of a job to the wussy, brain-dead boys.”

“I definitely think being a model would suit you.” I put my free hand on his stomach and traced it from his ribcage down to right below his navel, exploring his muscles there. His mouth dropped open and he pulled in a faint breath. I smiled. “Aha! Just like I’d hoped—you
do
have that six-pack. Feels exactly like I imagined from your profile photo…” I eyed his wide shoulders and the strong arms and defined chest, body parts that were all obvious through his white dress shirt. My gaze moved down to his crotch covered by his dark slacks. It bulged in a way that told me that Dylan was likely not going to reject me if I leaned in to kiss him right now. But I was not about to do that. I wanted to build the tension between us a little more, go for a bigger payoff. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes again, which had darkened considerably. His wide mouth remained open and I could tell he was breathing faster.

“You know, with a body like yours,” I said slowly, “you should’ve gone into underwear modeling. I bet you look great in a pair of Calvin’s.”

It seemed Dylan had no idea what to say to that because he was just staring at me.

“What kind of underwear are you wearing right now?” I gave him a coquettish smile.

He laughed, but managed to get out in a surprisingly straight voice, “Believe it or not, Calvin’s…” He gave me a lop-sided little grin.

I cracked up. “No! I don’t believe you.” I liked that he made me laugh.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“Prove it to me.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Right here?”

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Yeah. Why don’t I prove it to you at my place?” He motioned toward all the people who were seated in the adjacent restaurant. “No audience.”

“Good idea. Wanna leave right now?”

“Sure. Let me just take care of the bill.”

He motioned for the bartender to bring us the bill and handed him a credit card when the bartender came with it. After he signed the bill, leaving a generous tip, Dylan turned to me. “Ready?”

Dylan

I was glad I hadn’t had more than two beers. Any more and I doubted I would be able to perform in bed the way I not only suspected that Nina expected, but also the way I wanted to perform. Unlike my friends who liked to dabble with Viagra to maintain a hard-on all night long, I preferred doing it the natural way. Besides, as horny as I felt right now, I was sure the hot girl beside me would be enough of a turn-on for me to get it up more than once anyway. I had checked her out as she excused herself and went to the ladies’ room, and her body was the kind I fantasized about when I was alone in bed or in the shower and didn’t have access to porn—curvy with full breasts and a great ass, more like a playboy model than a runway model, which was how Emma looked. Nina wore a black dress that more than enhanced her curves and flat stomach, and those red high-heeled shoes made her legs look amazing. But it was the tattoo at the back of her right shoulder, a bird with its wings spread, that really got me. I usually found tattoos tacky, and especially on girls.
Tramp stamps
. But this tattoo, well, I wanted to see it real close up…

My pants strained at the crotch. I couldn’t remember the last time a girl had turned me on this much, not even Emma. Of course, doing it with Emma had been more than sex. It had been making love. I wasn’t planning on making love to the girl for whom I opened my car door. I would simply fuck her brains out. Which was clearly what she wanted anyway.

“Thank you,” she said and slid into the passenger seat of my BMW. A couple of minutes later, we were sailing over Sunset Boulevard toward my apartment in the Hollywood Hills. Neither of us said a word during the ride, I, at least, fearing that talking would spoil the magic moment between us, irrevocably destroy the delicious tension that kept me so hard. Not that there was much else to be said. All we would ever do was have great sex tonight, and then we would never see each other again.

Nina seemed to be in tacit agreement with me because all she did throughout the ride to my place was stare out the window, her hands with the red-painted short nails in her lap. Her pouty mouth was slightly opened and wet, and from this angle I had a great view of her breasts that were kept in place by a red lace bra.
Oh, God, I love red underwear on women.
Emma had refused to wear anything but virginal white or boring nude-colored underwear, claiming anything else was for sluts. I was grateful Nina felt otherwise. I had to make myself stop glancing at her from the corner of my eye or I would come in my pants right there. Which would be terribly embarrassing.

I pulled into my apartment building’s parking lot and found a spot. We walked into my tall building and rode the elevator to the eleventh floor where my apartment was. I opened the front door and held it so Nina could enter.

She walked in, looking around the modern space with the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the flat city that seemed to be never-ending from this angle. She stopped in front of one of the windows, looking out.

“Great view.”

I couldn’t agree more, standing several feet behind Nina. I took in her dark silhouette against the myriad of bright lights that made up the gigantic city and lit up the night sky above, erasing most stars. She was all soft curves and long, flowing hair. I wanted to pick her up and take her right there on the black L-shaped leather couch, but I restrained myself. Given that we hadn’t even kissed yet, such a move might scare her, despite her being such a forward girl. The last thing I wanted was for her leave me right now. So, I slowed myself down.

“Would you like something to drink?” I said and walked over to the bar area of the living room.

She turned toward me. “Sure. Seltzer and cranberry if you have that.”

“No alcohol?”

She walked over to me. Even the way she walked, with the confidence of a woman years older, had the ability to turn me on. My heart thumped faster against my ribcage. She stopped in front of me, only inches away, her body warmth mingling with mine. I swallowed. She glanced up at me and I noticed the mole below her left eye for the first time.

“I think I’ve had enough alcohol for tonight,” she said in a sultry voice. I was about to say something when she wrapped her arms around my neck. Pulling down my head, she landed a feather-light kiss on my lips, her mouth slightly open. I thought I would explode in my pants. Her mouth lingered a few millimeters away from mine, her sweet breath against my lips.
Oh, God, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself for much longer.