More Than Lies (15 page)

“Your back.” Tara’s voice is a whisper. She looks more distraught than I do and I’m the one with blood running down my body. “Come on, I’ll fix it.” Tara grabs my hand and tugs me along. When we reach the back, she pushes through Mac’s office and I shut the door behind me.

“Um, sit down and remove your shirt.” She releases my hand then walks over to a metal cabinet behind a wooden desk. I take a seat on the coffee table in the middle of the small office. Pulling my t-shirt over my head, I take in the torn material on the back. Its trash now so I toss it in the trash can off to my left.

Tara walks back over holding up another t-shirt. This one is white whereas the one I tossed was black. It’s folded neatly displaying the red emblem of Mac’s Pub on the front.

“You can put this on after I clean and bandage you up.” She places the shirt on Mac’s desk His desk is in the corner of the room next to the office door.

Tara walks over to stand in front of me. She lowers to place the Band-Aids, alcohol, and paper towels next me on top of the table I’m sitting on. She pulls my shoulder forward, making me lean into her. My palms wrap around the edge of the table and I turn my head to the side trying to not breathe in her scent.

You’d think with her working in a bar that she’d smell awful. I can assure you she does not and I really don’t need her this close. Hopefully she’ll hurry this up so I can get out of here. Looks like I’m going to make it to Level sooner than I thought.

“It’s kinda deep, Shawn, you might want to get it stitched up so there isn’t a big scar.” She pulls back and looks down at me the same time I look up. I shouldn’t have looked up. Fuck, she is beautiful. I look back down, but when I do her tattoo catches my attention. It’s pocking out between the gap where her jeans and tight shirt meet.

“Just handle it.”

Unlike most of the wait staff here, Tara doesn’t dress as skimpy, but it’s almost worse. Tara leaves a lot to the imagination. Her blue jeans are ripped up one leg showing a little of the tan skin of on her thigh. They are also torn on the backside at the knee and a small tear under the cheek on the left side of her ass. Her white t-shirt, which usually doesn’t show the skin of stomach, is exposed because she is wearing her pants lower due to her tattoo still healing and doesn’t need the restriction of tight clothing. The shirt is also fitted and stretched across her chest and Tara has a very nice size rack. The sexist thing about this attire, are the rips at the top of the shirt that reveal a hint of her cleavage if you look close enough.

To me this is worse than if she was in short shorts with a low cut top because I’m wondering what she’d look like without a stitch of material covering her body. I’d be willing to bet every man in here has thought the same at some point tonight.

The stinging sensation of the alcohol catches me off guard. My hands come off the table and wrap around her thighs, squeezing the burn away. Tara takes in a quick breath of air and tenses before releasing a moan.

Fuck me, if that sound didn’t turn me on and cause a small discomfort in my pants. I release the pressure, but I don’t remove my hands from her jean-clad legs.

To sit the bottle down she has to lower herself and lean over me. Tara’s movements quicken, as does her breathing. All thoughts of what’s happening above her waist cease to exist in my brain because my eyes close as I pull in a long inhale of her powerful scent.

The way I grab her when she poured rubbing alcohol on my back has her turned on.

I can smell it.

I bite down on my tongue. I’m trying to stay still so I don’t do something stupid, but there is no use reasoning with myself when my dick takes charge.

I feel the bandage seal over my wound and in the next second I’m standing. I’m don’t know if I’m trying to run or what.

Tara looks up at me and that’s my undoing. The decision is made without my consent even if I’m the one in motion. I pick her up by the thighs, moving my hand under her ass and the other I use to make her wrap her leg around me. She moves the other around me next. In one long step forward I have her back against the door and my lips slamming against her mouth.

My movements are fast. There is nothing slow about the way I’m handling her. I run my free hand up under her t-shirt. Tara has one palm resting on my bare shoulder and her other is in my hair, running her fingers through the strands.

She moans again for the third time tonight causing her mouth to open and my tongue to enter. She tastes sweet, but it isn’t a mellow kind of sweet. It’s divine and if I could get my tongue down her throat I think I would attempt it to gain more of her taste into my own mouth. Tara’s tongue starts to mold with mine. She is kissing me back. My hand glides up her stomach and over her bra. Her nipple is hard and it’s something else I want to savor.

Her fingers tighten through the strands of my hair. I move from her mouth, down to her jaw. Tara lifts her head toward the ceiling, allowing me access to her neck. I kiss downward and my hand not only squeezes her ass, but the other constricts around her breast.

“Oh, hell.”

At the sound of her voice I stop all movement. It’s as if reality smacks me in the face. What am I doing?

Tara isn’t the girl you fuck in a bar, no matter if it’s behind a closed door in an office that I doubt anyone’s going to walk into. Tara is the kind of girl you make love to in a bed and the simple fact is, I don’t do love. I certainly don’t fuck in a bed. I haven’t since high school. I’m after the quickest release from the easiest woman I can find.

That isn’t Tara.

Tara needs and deserves a man that can cherish every inch of her mind, body, and heart.

I’m not worthy of the last two.

“Shawn?”

I release her legs and they fall to the floor. I can’t look her in the eyes so I grab the t-shirt she got for me, pull her from the door and then leave. I walk out without looking back at her.

What the fuck did you just do, you stupid motherfucker? I berate myself as I walk back into the bar.

I don’t stick around. I get the hell out of there as quickly as I can. The bartender has my credit card on file. There is no need to settle up, he’ll charge my tab before he closes out at the end of the night.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Holy cow that kiss!

My lips are still tingling from his mouth being on mine even though it happened half an hour ago.

His erection against my stomach was solid as a freakin’ rock.

I always knew one simple kiss from Shawn would knock me sideways. Yet, it wasn’t a simple kiss at all. It was a kiss that defies all kisses that have ever came before him. Not that I’ve been kissed a great deal, but still his kiss was like, silky smooth chocolate, spiced with habanero peppers; sweet and tasty, but oh so burning hot.

Thank God Mac let me leave an hour before my shift was supposed to be over. After Shawn put a quick end to what was happening in the back office then walked out without saying a word, I had to get out of there, if only to think clearly. Which, if I’m honest with myself hasn’t really happened since I left the bar. Thinking that is. It’s like my brain blanked out after that kiss and I don’t know what happened or if I imagined the whole thing.

When I walk in the front door of my house, it dawns on me that I drove from work to here and I don’t even remember starting the ignition let alone the drive home. God was surely watching out for me tonight. As usual, I’m hit with loud music and I smile telling my body to relax and not over think things. After all, Shawn had been drinking, probably had a long stressful day at work and I was in the right place at the right time for once in my life.

Luck was on my side, that’s all it was.

I want to go straight up to my room so that I can soak in a hot bath, but before I’m able to make that happen, I’m grabbed by the arm and dragged through the hall and into the kitchen by Amanda. “Hey, look who I found coming through the door.” She turns and smiles at me. It’s fake. I’ve known Amanda Clayton long enough to know she has an agenda. I eye past her to my best friend, who happens to be her boyfriend. I love Matt. God knows I do and not in the, I want him for my boyfriend kind of way. I’m not jealous of her in the least. I love Matt because he’s my best friend and has been since the first day we met, but I don’t get what he sees in her. Sure, she is skinny and hot I guess, but that’s all. The only thing underneath her skin is bitch topped with more bitch.

“Get over here, Taralynn.” Matt chimes in. “I would like to introduce you to my new buddy.”

Great, him and bitch Barbie are playing matchmaker. Why my BFF thinks he needs me to date I do not understand. He thinks I’m hopelessly in love with one of our roommates; he’s not wrong, but he wants me to get over it already. I slug my way toward him, but obviously Amanda doesn’t think I’m walking quickly enough. She loops her arm through mine and practically tosses me onto the guy standing next to Matt.

Awkward.

For a short prissy little thing, she’s got power. Guess cheerleading did make her somewhat of an athlete. “Hi.” I say as I force myself to halt a few feet away before Amanda shoves me completely onto this guy.

“Hello,” he greets me back. And please forgive me for this, because I know it’s wrong to judge a person before you get to know them, but immediately I don’t like him. It’s his voice. It makes me think of a slithering snake. I hate snakes. They are the devil and I want nothing to do with them. So that pretty much makes me want nothing to do with him, either.

It’s not just his voice though. It’s the whole package. His hair is dark and slicked back onto his head. The easy look isn’t doing him any good unless he’s going for the unclean and dirty thing. I’m not sure if you know me well or not, but I like cleanliness. He’s not. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. The t-shirt is too large on him. He’s not a small guy, but he’s about Matt’s size, in height and build putting him about two inches taller than me. I’d say even my friend here that hates the inside of a gym has a little more strength on him than the creep in front of me does.

I think I need to find the quickest way to my room. That bath is definitely more appealing. I’m starting to feel dirty, now.

“Matt tells me you’re an English major like he is.” Why on earth is Matt talking about me with this guy? I’ve never seen him before and Matt doesn’t make friends that easily. He’s a lot like me in that regard so I don’t understand how I’d even come up in a conversation.

“You need a drink, here.” I take the black solo cup that Amanda hands me. Seriously she is freaking me out here. I turn back to the guy whose name I don’t even know. Nor care to know.

“I am.” He smiles and it’s even more of a turn off. I take a sip of the beer that is clearly draft and definitely not Corona.

“Derrick here,” Matt says, tipping up his own cup before finishing. “Is a sophomore this year.” I stop hearing Matt at that point because frankly I don’t care. I want my bath and I want to remember the feel of warm lips on my skin. I take a large gulp of beer on that thought.

I don’t know what I could have done differently for him to continue. He seemed really into it and heck he’s the one that grab me and slammed me into the door. I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned on than in Mac’s office. I love being man handled and Jared knows how to handle my body to get me off, but Shawn wasn’t even attempting to grant me a release and I was on the edge. A minute more of his erection pressed into me and I would have come.

I come out of my thought when my empty cup is being taken from my hand and a full one being replaced by whom I now know as Derrick. I force a smile to thank him even if I didn’t want another drink; at least not what’s in my cup. I have plenty of my own beer in the fridge and even tequila sitting on the counter. Those options would taste better, but I don’t complain. Instead I bring the cup to my lips and sip. Maybe the more I drink the more I’ll stop questioning what happened back at Mac’s.

Did I do something wrong or turn him off?

Should I have done something differently or felt him up the way he was doing me?

I don’t know. It all happens so fast and in a blink of the eye it all stopped.

I look around the kitchen when I take another pull of liquid into my mouth. Unease settles into my gut. Matt and Amanda are no longer around us nor even in the room. No one is, it’s just Derrick and me. The back door is open and I hear voices coming from the deck area. It’s only the middle of November so it’s not exactly cold. Cool maybe, but not even close to being cold. There is always a house full of people here on most weekends so I’m sure there are plenty of bodies in the living room.

I look down at my cup that is still half full. Shoot. Screw it. I lift it to my lips and tilt the cup all the way back, letting the beer flow into my mouth and down my throat, drinking it like it’s a shot of tequila.

Definitely, not the same.

I breathe out and then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

I shake my head to clear the dizziness that I’m sure is caused by gulping down half a cup of beer. I blink and offer him a smile.

“Well—” He doesn’t let me finish. Derrick shoves another cup into my hand and latches onto my elbow. He’s touching me and my skin is crawling so much that I want to rip it from his grasp and scratch the area.