Restless (Drunk Girl's Fantasies Short Story One) (2 page)

Fuck!
  I thought I felt naked before.

Perfection personified with a long-necked bottle of beer being held between two of his fingers. His long muscular legs stretched out in front of him in a somewhat deceptively casual pose.  He conveys a look about him that says he’s ready to strike.  His clear blue eyes spell out that he’s definitely not drunk but watching every move I make with intensity.

What’s he doing here?

What the fuck.

Concentrate Ashley or you’re going to fall on your ass and that will just make matters a whole lot worse.

Lifting my brow, I blow him a kiss.  He immediately lifts his hand and acts as if he’s catching it in his large manly palm.  Which is super cute and he’s more than cute.  He’s fucking hot.  Hot as sin right after going to confessional.  Strong jaw, full—please, please, please kiss me—lips, and two deep adorable dimples pop out as he winks at me.

Damn! 

My sex flushes as heat dampens my already see-through panties.  My breasts swell to unnatural proportions.  My nipples pull even tighter as I’m sure they are screaming to the audience in the sheer, barely there almost see through outfit—
look at me, look at me, please look at me.  Here I am, and I’m fucking turned on by strutting around this bunch of strangers.

Why in God’s name do I have to like cute guys so much?

Leaning over at the waist, my ass is now sticking up in the air.  Bending my knees, I crouch low on the stage and raise my back up twisting until I’m facing the audience as my head comes up his gaze locks on mine once again.   One thick black eyebrow high on his forehead looks wantonly sinful and sexy, just what the doctor ordered.

My eyes narrow as I try not to squirm making my way to the silver pole in the middle of the stage.  My hips sensually sway to the rocking beat.  Taking long seductive catwalk strides across the floor, my heels tap out a twin beat with the music. 

How can I be attracted to a man trying to get busy with a damn stripper?  Does he do this all the time?  Not that there’s anything wrong with strippers, I know they’re not all ho’s, but…he’s setting me on fire with those eyes alone and is making it very difficult for me to grip the pole as my thighs are getting more soaking wet by the second. 

If I’m going to be completely honest with myself, he’s really my secret fantasy.  However, there is no way in hell I am going to write that down on a piece of paper for someone to find, especially my best friends.  Even though I know that they already know since I apparently felt the need to bare my fucking soul to them that night.  Loneliness and tequila.  Bad combination! 

Grasping the pole, I spin around with my arm straight and wrap one calf around the pole.  Gripping it with both hands, I spin with my legs spread wide.  I lift myself up off the ground with my arms and legs.  Now several feet off the floor, I arch my back amidst the loud roar as the patrons cheer loudly at the performance and I’ve only started. 

This feels fucking fantastic!

My muscles burn and as my pulse increases, I feel so sexy.  I wonder if I rub my clit enough times on the pole if I could come.   All I need to do is add a screaming orgasm in front of a drunken masturbating audience to the list of things to be embarrassed about in my life.  God I want to come.  After all, it might stop me from shaking so badly. 

Holding on with my thighs, I dance my hands and arms as I lean back against the pole.  With my back against the pole I spread my legs wide.  Rolling up I grasp the pole above my hands and with bent knees I do a split with one leg against the pole and the other down towards the ground. 

I lift myself with only my thighs dropping until my back is against the pole once again, my head laying seductively towards the floor.  Lowering one of my legs, I wrap my top ankle around the pole and spread my legs wide; my right leg stretches out in a straight line, now wrapping my right knee around the pole I slowly slide down doing the splits on the floor.

Rising up on my knees, I spread my legs wide, arching my back with arms back and fall to my stomach.   Rolling over with my legs wide I sit back up into a split before crawling back to the pole to grab a hold and pull up to a standing position.  Crawling up the pole with my hands and knees, I swing around holding on with only one hand.  Grabbing the pole between my thighs and pulling my right leg behind, I hold my right ankle with my left hand and spin around the bar.

Finally letting go, I slide back down landing on my toes spinning on one foot as I slide down into the splits.  Lying flat against my outstretched leg I roll over the floor and lift myself to my knees.  Stopping head bowed, I pant, my breasts rise and fall with a satisfied smile now plastered across my face. 

Yes!

I did it!

I feel fabulous and know it shows on my face.  My head lifts immediately capturing his deep blue eyes as he watches me, his lips curve into a deeper full-on gorgeous smirk his eyes are now warm liquid pools of fuck me.

Pushing myself to a standing position, I pull in a breath, pivot to the curtain and sashay through the opening where I’m immediately attacked by Hailie and Georgia.

“
Ohmy-fucking-God!” 
Hailie gushes loudly.  “That was fucking amazing!” 

Georgia turns me to her with a grip on my upper arms, shaking me hard in her enthusiasm.  “You bitch,” she teases, jabbing me in the chest with her index finger.  “You’ve been practicing and not telling a soul.”

“Just a couple nights after class.”  I shrug, still working at evening out my breathing.  “And maybe a few extra Saturdays.  I like it.”  Gulping in air, my hand presses against my belly.  “I feel strong.  Alive.”  I reach up and pull the mask off my face leaving it dangling from my fingers. 

Hailie jumps up and down.  “Awesome!”

“She’s right.”  My spine stiffens at the deep, gravelly voice behind me. 
No.  No.  No. 
“Fuckin’ amazing.”  Right then and there I swear I’m going to kill them.

My belly flutters.  I close my eyes and count to ten.  I’m practically naked and the only thought going through my mind right now is I really, really, really want my big Titans sweatshirt that hangs almost to my knees and to be wrapped in a big blanket on my comfortable couch.  I don’t want to be dressed this way in front of this guy.  He’s too sexy.  Too…whatever…He makes me giggly.  He makes me shaky.  He makes my knees feel like jelly.  He makes my body hot and liquidy.  Did I say hot and liquidy?   And he is making me feel all tongue-tied like a total idiot.

With my arms crossed over my chest in the best defensive gesture I can think of at the moment, I spin as gracefully as possible on the five inch platforms and look up, up, and yes, up some more.  Yep, the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen and at this moment, I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

He looks at me with a flat out smile that accentuates his dimples.  They are deep, gorgeous craters on either side of his full, yummy, undeniably kissable lips.

“Daredevil.”  I don’t know how it’s possible, but his dimples seem to deepen a little more as his voice rumbles.  Somehow his voice permeates every nerve ending in my body, shooting sparks to places I didn’t even know could tingle.  Standing with his hands deep in the pockets of his faded jeans, his legs are planted wide with his head slightly cocked.

I take a deep breath.  “Uh…hi.”  My brows furrow.  I lift my hand in a small gesture of greeting.  I know who he is.  My best friends know I know who he is.  And I want to know why he’s here.  Why he’s in this particular club on this particular night?  Why he’s watching me work a pole like my rent depends on it?  I know the look on my face has to be one of immense confusion. 

“Hi.”  His look intense, his eyes flare molten hot and they’re definitely blue which I love the combination with his black hair.  A very sexy contrast.  Together we’re like dark and darker.

My eyes move back and forth from Hailie to Georgia and back again.  They have the biggest
I’m-most-definitely-up-to-something
grins on their faces. 

Dead. 

Going to kill them dead. 

Just as soon as I’m out of these mini torture chambers called shoes. 

Dead.  Dead.  Dead.

“Umm…do I know you?” 
Smooth Ashley.  Act like you don’t know who the hell this man is.  Real smooth.

“Not really.”  He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off my perspiring forehead.

His touch arrests me, stops me cold, speechless.  Looking back at Hailie and Georgia again the confusion etches even deeper between my brows.  One look at my friends and I know they have conspired against me.  They knew my deepest, darkest fantasies and they knew he was one of them.  I turn my head and stare right into his eyes nearly losing myself in the process.  “Have I seen you before?” 

We stare at each other.  I can tell by the sparkle in his eyes that he knows I’m prevaricating.  My eyes glance off every angle of his chiseled features pretending as if I’m trying to place him.  Like I’d ever forget some guy this smoking hot?  Hailie and Georgia aren’t idiots.

“Oh, yeah.”  His blue eyes darken to an almost midnight blue with those words and I know he knows I’m trying to pretend I don’t know who the hell he is.  He’s obviously not a stupid man, which is good.  I’m not for sure why this surprises me.  I’m obviously not a very good liar.

“I really need to get dressed.”  I feel like I’m asking for permission when I really don’t have to.  I’m free to do whatever I want, but I can’t seem to make my feet work.  I can’t seem to pull my gaze from his desire filled eyes.

His grin grows even sexier.  “Not on my account, darlin’.”

I nod.  “Most definitely on your account,” I whisper.

“Am I making you feel uncomfortable, darlin’?”  He smiles, leaning in real close and my heart begins thumping like crazy again.

I nod again.  Completely at his mercy and completely turned on.

He leans into me; his breath hot just beneath my ear.  I shiver as I feel his teeth graze my lobe as he speaks, “I’m your neighbor.”

I turn my head bringing my mouth approximately less than a half an inch from his and ask, “You are?”

This time he nods.  “You wave at me when you check your mail or get your newspaper.”

“I do?”  Sex brownie points I am not making right now.  Sexy neighbor I need an orgasm points have been practically flown out the proverbial window.

He nods again.  His eyelids lower over his heating eyes, his left hand settles at my waist which just happens to be naked and the heat of his touch is making my belly clench with delicious tingles.

“Oh.”  I bite my bottom lip.  “Sorry, I’ve been so busy.”  I’m going to kick my own ass when I get home. 

“I gathered.”  His eyes gleam in the darkness.  He actually sounds more amused than irritated.  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you with your time management skills.”  He leans close.  “Starting tonight.”

My mouth falls slightly open.  If it was me, I would feel hurt if someone didn’t notice me, or in my case pretends to not know me.  He actually seems amused which floors me.

He leans down again and speaks for my ears only.  “By the way, love that short pink robe.”

I suck in a breath.  Heat rises to my cheeks. Scooting around him I mutter, “I’ve got to get dressed.”  I race to the dressing room where I had left my bag and change of clothes. As soon as I enter the room I slam the door shut and lock it.  I don’t care if Hailie and Georgia want to come in.  I’m gonna kill them.  They did this on purpose.  I look up at the ceiling.  I’m gonna kill ‘em.  Kill ‘em dead.  One hundred percent dead.  And then I’m gonna hide their bodies where they’ll never be found. 

Ripping open the zipper on my bag, I pull out my faded jeans and even more faded pink T-shirt tossing them to the ground along with my matching pink flip flops.  Removing my shoes, I let out a sigh of relief.  Spreading my toes, I lean down to massage my arches for about ten seconds before I hear the knob on the door rattle ominously. 

“Let me in Ashley.”

“I’m changing my clothes.”

“Let me in Ashley.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Let me in Ashley and we’ll get to know each other.”

I growl.  “What if I don’t want to get to know you?”

“You do.”

“You’re arrogant and too good looking for your own good,” I yell through the door.

“You think I’m good looking?”

“Really?”  I growl again.  “You’re really standing out there asking me that question?”

“Uh…yeah.”  He chuckles.  “’Cause I think you’re fucking insanely gorgeous.”

“Really?” I step towards the door.

“Are you fucking blind?”

“No.”

The doorknob jiggles again.  “Let me in, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart,” I call through the door in a singsongy voice.

“You could be.”

I look up at the ceiling again and say in a mutter, “Why do guys have to be such Neanderthal assholes?”

“Who’re you talking to sweetheart?”

“I said I’m not your sweetheart.”

“Come on baby,” he says really close to the door.  “Open up.  Can’t we just talk a minute?”