Page 31 of June: Jess' Story

“Alright, let’s do it.” She’s surprised when I’m quick about it, too. I make a little nod towards the back where the bathrooms are and her cheeks turn pink. I throw a twenty down on the bar, drain my beer, and walk towards the back hall that leads to the restrooms.

She’s right behind me, losing her drink somewhere along the way. And right on cue, I enter one of the single bathrooms, leaving the door unlocked, and she follows right behind. She closes and locks the door on her way in.

This part’s always a bit tricky. Don’t love kissing on the lips, but most people are offended when you just bend them over without any foreplay. I turn my ball cap backwards, then with a gentle push, I pin her up against the door with a hand on her shoulder and one at her waist. Nudging her neck to the side, I drag my mouth down her tan skin.Fake tan, tastes slightly chemical, smells like too much perfume.

So I shut my eyes…and see someone else.

That always helps. I push a hand into her hair, and tug gently. I slip one hand into the front of her pants, but check her with a question before I dive further. Our eyes meet, I ask.

And she says, “Yeah, please do.”

I quickly unbutton the jeans that practically hit her ribcage and push them down. With a hand holding her neck, I keep sucking and nipping and kissing, and with a hand down her pants I slide between her folds and find she’s already slick.

She lets out an exaggerated moan and I close my eyes again. Turning, I move her away from the door and towards the sink. I push her jeans down to her boots, and quickly undo my belt buckle. I pull a condom out of my back pocket, roll it on, close my eyes, and with her back to my chest, I push into…fuck. I realize I don’t even know her fucking name. Not that it matters because I’m seeing someone else right now.

It’s a balance because right now sex is just clinical. I can think about someone else, but if I let it go too far, I’ll startactinglike it's someone else I’m thrusting into, and we don’t want that. That behavior causes attachment. I need this to be just good enough to get us both off. Just quick enough, no one’s the wiser, and just quiet enough I don’t hear the moaning in my nightmares at night.

Just like I anticipated, she lets out another overly loud moan and I shush her. It’s not so other people don’t hear, it’s so thatIdon’t hear.

Need to wrap this up, so I start pressing into her, harder, riding her deeper. I push one of her hands to her clit and she starts rubbing. I feel her start to clench, so slamming my eyes tighter, I slide a hand into her long hair and tug gently, and it brings me home. Over the finish line.

I seeher. I feelher. I still wanther. I almost sayhername, and when I open my eyes, I sober quickly.

Tall blonde is looking back at me with expectation and heart eyes, but I don’t want it. Don’t want to be rude, but I gotta go.

“So, do you want to come to my place to watch a movie?” she asks sweetly.

“No, I’ve actually gotta go. You good?” I ask. Her smile fades, but I get the feeling she knows how this goes.

“Yep, I’m good. Thanks, bubba.” I get the chills because I fucking hate that nickname. All too quickly, this feels fucking dirty and disgusting, and all I want is a shower. It takes me a minute to clean up, wash hands, and then with a kiss on the cheek, I say goodbye to the tall blonde. She watches me go then locks the door behind me once I’m out in the hall.

As I leave, I take a couple glances around anddamnit.

“Fuck.” I mutter under my breath.

I can’t help that I notice shit. Sometimes I wish I didn’t. There’s a certain bliss in ignorance, butthis. Can’t be fucking ignored.

I give him a quick tap on the shoulder and he turns around surprised to find me glaring at him.

Matt Scala is at a fucking bar, with some chick who is not my sister.Chances of him successfully getting with Britain have just fallen to 1%.

I nod, giving him a chance before I say anything. I think I know what’s happening here, but I could be wrong. Hope I’m wrong. But odds are I’m not. Because I have eyes, ones that are trained to pick up slight nuances and deduce body language. And this, what I see now, is all fucking wrong.

“Alex!” he says, eyes a bit glossy, then drops the girl's hand that he’d been playing with underneath the table.

“What are you doing?” I ask, cold as the blue mountains on his beer can.

“Just grabbing a drink with an old friend.”

I nod towards the girl. Cute. But I’m not buying the old part. She looks like she just turned 22, just past jailbait.

I scoff at him and shake my head. “Alright, we’re doing this then. I’m going to ask again. What the fuck are you doing?”

Matt’s demeanor shifts and his back straightens. “We were just talking.” I nod, not buying it for one second.

“Mmkay. I will just say this,” I lean forward, getting in his face. He’s tall, but I have at least a half inch on him. “You make Britain cry, and you’ll never stop crying. I’ll ruin you, your business, and any chance of you ever having a happy life.”

I lean back, slapping a hand down on his shoulder and say, “Make good choices, Matt.” Then I walk out of that dusty shit hole.