“Don’t text that to Grace,” Bo said, grabbing my hand.
“What am I, twelve?” I shook him off. Of course I wasn’t going to text Grace, who wanted to go dance at some techno hip-hop club, that she was in for a night of heavy metal rock. “But you know she isn’t going to want to stay long.”
“I know. Didn’t you say there was a party over on Forest?”
“Yeah. Grace’s cousin is trying to hunt down some frat guy tonight and thinks he’ll be there.”
“The lovely Lana is single?” Bo raised his eyebrows. That was the first interest he’d tossed in that direction.
“Apparently her boyfriend accidentally forwarded a nude picture of some woman he hooked up with over the summer,” I explained. The entire table was now leaning in listening to our conversation. I felt like I was in the middle of some goddamn church picnic where everyone got together to gossip about their neighbor while pretending not to really care.
“Ouch,” Bo grimaced. “Rookie mistake.”
“Who’s lovely Lana?” Mal asked.
“Lovely Lana,” Bo said, “is a glorious blonde creature.”
“You hitting that?” Mal asked.
“Nope,” Bo leaned in. I could tell he was going to impart one of his dating philosophies. He had many. “There are only two circumstances in which you sleep with your wingman’s girl’s friend.” He pointed to me. “First, when all you’re doing is hooking up casually. Second,” he lifted another finger, “when you think you’re both going to marry those girls. Otherwise, you dip your wick elsewhere.”
“Why’s this?” Mal said.
“Don’t encourage him,” I protested.
“Because when your wingman breaks up with his girlfriend, you don’t want to be stuck with the extra baggage.” He cocked his fingers at me and pretended to shoot me with them.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I didn’t really get Bo’s objection to Grace and me as a couple. He seemed convinced we weren’t going to last.
The door to Americana opened, and I heard the entire bar suck in their collective breath. I didn’t need to look at the door to know it was Grace and her cousin. But I looked anyway, because I was hungry to see her. She was dressed up in shorts and heels. It was a good look on her, and apparently I wasn’t the only one who thought so. Some asshole detached himself from the bar to greet her. I stood up.
Bo stood next to me. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to hold me back or go with me, but I didn’t wait. As soon as I started moving, I saw Grace notice me. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. The guy next to her glanced in my direction but didn’t back away.
He was talking to her, and she pointed to me and shook her head. I caught the tail of her conversation.
“I have a boyfriend,” I heard her say. Pride swelled up in me, along with a fierce possession at her use of the word boyfriend.
“I had tacos for lunch,” he replied.
“What?” Her attention swung away from me.
“I thought we were talking about random things of no importance.” He grinned like it was the wittiest, bad-ass, motherfucker thing that he’d ever thought of it, but it was a well-rehearsed line that I had heard trotted out a million times at base bars.
She just shook her head. “My random thing of no importance is standing right behind you.”
I refrained from baring my teeth at him and instead took Grace’s hand and pulled her to me. I bent down. Instead of kissing her on her lips, I pulled her hair aside, exposing her neck, and pressed a hot wet bite to the soft flesh right above her shoulder. Her breath hitched in surprise. I didn’t even raise my head, but I turned my face slightly so I could look at the guy with challenge in my eyes. She’s mine, I told him silently. I wanted to describe how I had choked someone until he passed out, but refrained. He got the message, though, and I watched him carefully until he turned and went back to the bar.
“Um, hello,” I heard Grace say. I kissed her neck again and straightened up, brushing her hair down her back. I wanted to mark her, but I knew I probably shouldn’t do that in public. I drew her back to the table. In my absence, another table had been pulled up and three more chairs added. I looked behind Grace and saw Lana and Amy, the girl I carried up into Grace’s apartment the night of that frat party. When we were out of shouting distance of the bar, Grace tugged me down so she could speak into my ear. “I don’t know whether to be grateful that you didn’t hit him or mad that you manhandled me. Those are two bad options.”
I tried to look repentant, but I wasn’t pulling it off. “I’ll do better next time?” I offered. I thought that as time went on, and I was surer about everything that maybe I wouldn’t react so poorly after seeing some guy hit on Grace in front of me. But probably not.
She gave an un-Grace-like snort and went to the table. Bo greeted her with a hug and shook hands with Lana and Amy. Bo was thawing toward her. Every guy at the table perked up at the sight of two additional women, but the odds were still on the poor side. I slid Grace’s and my chairs back a little, so we were out of the line of fire as the guys all geared up to compete for Lana and Amy’s attention.
I tuned out whatever they were talking about and instead spent my time admiring Grace’s sheer top and the tight fit of the tank top she wore beneath. Tonight I’d like to see Grace wearing just that sheer top with nothing on underneath. I could suck her nipples through the cloth and see the wet fabric cling to her skin. If there was a light behind her, the entire top would be illuminated, both hiding and displaying her curves.
I shifted in my chair, my jeans suddenly a bit too tight on me. I closed my eyes and pictured myself dismantling my rifle instead of disrobing Grace.
A screeching of guitars and a smattering of mismatched drums woke me out of my reverie. The band was getting ready to play.
“Why are we here again?” I asked Adam.
“The lead singer used to be in my band, and I want to make sure he didn’t steal any of my music,” Adam replied. I nodded to indicate I heard him and sat back. I placed my hand on Grace’s back, and felt the silky fabric beneath my palm. I rubbed my hand up and down, idly wondering if the delicate shirt would catch on the calluses of my hand. I wanted to reach under the shirt and smooth my hand over Grace’s skin. The tank she had on was riding up a little, and I could see the top of the waistband of her shorts. The tank needed just a slight nudge upward, and I’d be treated to a sliver of golden skin.
I wondered if I could get Grace to go the bathroom with me. No, too public. Maybe the truck. My backseat was a bench and I could—I shifted again. Pulling my hand off Grace’s back, I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. Remove the magazine. Empty the chamber. Place rifle on table. Pull the hand guard. Breathe.
She turned to me with a questioning look. “Anything wrong?” she mouthed.
I’d like to lay you across the table and eat you out, and I don’t care if the entire bar watches. I shook my head no, but she slid back in her chair and nestled up next to me. My arm closed around her, almost involuntarily. Her nose brushed my neck as she leaned in and I had to suppress a shiver.
“Is it okay that we are here? Seems like we have interrupted a manly convention of drinking.”
“Just before you came, the entire table was bemoaning the low chick to dick ratio.”
She released another little snort and said, “Nice.”
She said something else, but I couldn’t hear her because the band had started their first song. It was a lot of screaming, jumping around and really poor guitar playing. I winced at a particularly bad note and nudged Adam again. “These guys are really bad.”
He yelled back, “I said that they were like Slipknot, not that they were Slipknot.”
There was only one acceptable act after fighting and that was fucking. If I didn’t get Grace alone for a minute, I was going to explode. Standing up, I pulled Grace up from her chair and led her toward the only semi private spot in the joint.
The hallway to the bathrooms was dimly lit and there was a small space at the end illuminated only by a faint EXIT sign. The walls provided a barrier against the awful sound emanating from the stage.
I leaned her against the wall and put an outstretched arm by her head.
I rubbed a strand of her dark brown hair between my fingers and then leaned close. “I’m going to kiss you here, okay?” I felt I should ask because it was public, but Grace didn’t protest. She only pressed her body closer to mine.
“Because it’s the only way to endure the music?” she teased.
As if I needed an excuse. I didn’t respond with words, but instead closed the distance between us. Her lips were soft and a little sticky, remnants of some lip gloss perhaps. I swept my tongue across the bottom of her lip and then pushed inside to taste her.
The cool of a mint still lingered and I could feel a faint tingling sensation. Dimly, I thought that she must have just eaten a breath mint. She offered no resistance to my touch and instead curled her little tongue around mine, stroking it, welcoming me inside.
My hand tightened in her hair. I clenched my other hand in a fist against the wall even though I wanted to touch her all over. Cup her breasts. Unbutton her pants, stroke her from throat to pussy. But this was a semi-public place, and I didn’t want Grace to feel embarrassed by anything she did with me, ever. Public making out seemed to be a good limit. For now, at least.
But that didn’t stop me from imagining what it would feel like to have her hot mouth all over my cock, having her suck me like she was sucking my tongue. Then I couldn’t resist. My body blocked the view from anyone else. I let go of her hair, pressed my palm just below her breast, and let the plump weight rest on the top of my fingers. When she moaned, I took this as permission and covered her breast, kneading it slightly with my palm and rubbing my thumb across the nipple I could feel even through the sheer shirt, the tank, and the bra she wore underneath.
I wanted to put my mouth on that tip and suck it like the juicy piece of fruit it reminded me of.
My hindbrain was telling me to keep going, to rip the shirt off, and pull her shorts down. I pulled my hand off her breast and tore my mouth from hers.
She made a small sound of frustration. Me too, sweetheart. Me too. Instead of taking her again, I pulled her in for a hug and held her close, trying to will myself to calm down. “Can we go home or are you committed to a night out?” I asked, pushing strands of her hair out of her face and down behind her ear.
“I can’t,” she whispered to my shirt. “Lana, she’s had a rough week.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. I had waited this long, another few hours wouldn’t kill me.
“Later, then, tonight?” I hoped she knew what I was asking. Maybe it seemed like we had only been dating for a short while, but our courtship had extended nearly six years. Surely that was long enough.
“Yes, tonight,” she promised.
Grace
Noah’s response to my agreement was a blinding smile. Shaking my head, I asked, “Why doesn’t just being with me generate that kind of happy response?”
“It does. It’s just on the inside.” He gave me another hug and a kiss on the top of my head. “So let’s go find this Jack dude.”
“Wait,” I said and looked down. Lana had told me I should let Noah know he was my first, so he could be gentle with me. I was embarrassed and wasn’t sure how he would take it.
“What is it?” Noah asked, tipping my face up. I must have looked pained because he stroked my face and kissed my temple. “What’s wrong?” he asked again.
“I’m, ah,” I stumbled around for the words. “I’m not very experienced.” I felt his body tense up against me. Was he upset by this? I should’ve never told him.
“Oh baby, really?” he said, sounding a little winded. I nodded and looked down, a little afraid of seeing the expression on his face. He laughed a little and hugged me closer.
“God, this is going to make me a jackass if I say this, because it truly wouldn’t have mattered to me if you weren’t a virgin, but goddamn Grace, this is amazing.”
“So you aren’t upset?” I asked him, finally looking up. When I saw his eyes, my breath caught. His lips were curved upward in a smile, but his eyes were blazing.
“No fucking way. I’m glad you told me, but now I’m so hard I’m not going to be able to walk for a good minute,” he admitted. “I’m going to make it so good for you, Grace, I promise.” He said it so seriously that it was like he was vowing it on his mother’s grave.
I gave him a small smile in return. “I believe you.” I ran my hands up and down his chest, molding my fingers against the ridges and valleys. I shivered with delight at the idea of Noah teaching me all of the things other, more experienced girls hinted knowingly about.