Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Tiffany
Three Months Later…
With my classes complete, I have been enjoying my job. Elodie and I have girls’ night out once a week. Josie visits Jeff every other weekend, so some of our girls’ nights are spent pampering ourselves at her house with an amazing nine-year-old little girl.
Alex and I have been seeing each other. He’s a real estate broker, and his schedule doesn’t leave us much time together. He’s nice enough, definitely the country club socialite my dad always wanted me to date.
Harrison still texts every day, and we talk once a week. Things seem solid for him. I miss having him here, though. Talking on the phone isn’t the same.
My phone chimes, alerting me to a new text.
This is Maggie. Here’s my #. Give me a call this week sometime.
Since I’m at work, I simply reply, okay. I have no idea what Harrison’s sister could possibly be texting me about or wanting to call me. I mean, really, what could she want?
The day passes quickly. Alex and I have plans for the evening, so I don’t get a chance to call Maggie.
Once again, Alex and I have an uneventful date. We have dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant, followed by a chaste kiss goodnight on my doorstep.
I don’t mean to sound conceited, but I’m an attractive woman, so why doesn’t he ever try anything? I admit, he doesn’t spark the passion in me the way Harrison does, but damn, the man doesn’t even try.
The next day, distracted by my day to day activities, I forget to call Maggie again.
Today is now Sunday, and I’m cleaning my condo when my phone rings for my usual Harrison call.
“Hey, you,” I greet.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Oh, you know, the usual: working hard, playing hard, and living the life,” I say with a chuckle.
He’s laughing when I hear a doorbell in the background. “Hold on a sec, Tiff.”
I hear the rustling of the phone being laid down, and then I can faintly make out a woman’s voice in the background.
“Hey, Harry, whatcha up to?”
More rustling as he picks up the phone. “Hey, Tiff? Maggie is here. Can I call you back later?”
Before I manage a response, the phone is being shuffled once again.
“Hey, Tiffany, it’s Maggie. Sorry to intrude, but I need to talk to you.”
“It’s good, actually. I got your text but forgot to call. Sorry about that. What’s up?” I fight to sound casual as my anxiety rises.
“Look, I’m not your biggest fan.”
“Maggie, don’t,” I hear Harrison cut her off in the background.
“I’ve learned in the last year that things aren’t always simple and people can’t always be taken at face value. Harrison told me about your baking. I looked into the shop you’ve been working at and, well, I want to hire you for an event.”
“You want to give me a job?” I ask, stunned.
“Dina and I have a wedding booked to host in Myrtle Beach in a couple months, and we want to hire you to do the cake. I can email all the details. Dina won’t be travelling with me. She’s preggo and staying close to home. My friend Kenna will be coming with me. We’ll be staying there for four days. Maybe you can do the cake, and we can find time to hang out? Maybe you and I can find our way to friendship since my brother has found his way to forgiveness.”
Damn, Harrison must have told Maggie something because she’s never invited me anywhere.
“Sure. Harrison knows my email. Get the info over, and we will work something out.”
I really don’t know what else to say. This is an opportunity to do a job I love and really get to know Harrison’s sister in a way I never have before.
***
Two Months Later…
Elodie comes with me to deliver the cakes. Susan is keeping Josie so we can have a girls’ weekend getaway. It’s Friday when we arrive at the hotel, unpacking quickly. We have a smaller cake to set up for the rehearsal dinner tonight.
Upon our arrival at the restaurant, we see Maggie. I introduce Elodie, and she introduces Kenna. Once we complete our setup, we continue on, helping Maggie with their centerpieces. The four of us fall into easy banter, as if we have been friends for years.
The following day, we all busy ourselves in wedding tasks. Sunday night, we are well-rested and ready for a night out, so we meet Maggie and Kenna for drinks down at Broadway on the Beach.
Now belly up to the bar, Maggie’s already lining up the shots.
“Girls just wanna have fun,” she says with a smile that screams trouble. “Drink up, bitches.”
We all take our shots and laugh.
An hour later, we have all had a couple of shots and feel the alcohol kicking in.
“Tiffany, I thought you were a bitch, but you’re not. Harrison talks about you all the time now, ya know. More than he did when y’all were fucking,” Maggie blurts out. Dumbfounded, I keep quiet. “He won’t admit it, but he loves you.”
“Shh … Maggie, shut up. Sorry, girls, Maggie is Little Miss Loose Lips when she’s drinking. I’m sure Harrison wouldn’t appreciate her spilling his secrets. Plus, he’s with Sophia … sort of,” Kenna says, trying to quiet Maggie’s ramblings.
“What do you mean, sort of? They’re together,” I argue. “Harrison and I have a history, and we share a common loss. We aren’t together like that. I wouldn’t do that to him or Sophia.” I’m curious what these girls know.
“Fuck it, Kenna, let’s get real. I love Sophia—really great girl—but she’s strung my brother along by the balls for three years now. I know, I know, they have an ‘arrangement.’ ” She drags the word out and uses air quotes for emphasis. “Harry wants more, and she’s never willing to give it. I don’t know what her deal is, but I know my brother. He wants what he once had with you, Tiffany, and more.”
“What we had was a good time between the sheets, Maggie. There was no depth to our relationship, not like the friendship we have now. I’m not going to lie; I cared a lot for your brother back then, and I care a lot for him now.” The alcohol is relaxing my inhibitions. I need to shut my mouth.
With another round of shots down, Elodie decides to add her two cents.
“You know you love him. You know you want him. I get that you don’t want to mess up what he has going, but from what these girls are saying, it doesn’t sound like what he has going is all that great.”
I shoot her a look to back off. “You know there is more to it than just Sophia. I’m dating Alex. Plus, Harrison and I are in a good place with our friendship, so there’s no need to complicate anything.”
“Alex? Who’s Alex?” Maggie asks. “Is he hot? What’s he like in the bedroom?”
I know I’m blushing at her last question, but I don’t get to answer before Elodie is laughing loudly and answering for me.
“Alex is this stuffy guy in a suit. Cute? Yes. Hot like Harrison? Hell no. And what guy doesn’t try to bang a hot piece like Tiff on the first night, much less months later without even a make out session? Alex needs to move on.”
“I think he’s trying to be a gentleman,” I answer, knowing damn well she just vocalized my every thought.
“Gentleman, my ass,” Maggie retorts. “Knowing my brother, you know what it’s like to be fucked seven ways to Sunday. If you haven’t slept with Alex, it’s because he doesn’t have a clue what to do with you, not because he’s a saint.”
“What does my sex life matter to you?” I ask, feeling defensive.
“Simple. We’re married. We love our men, but damn, you get to spice it up. Until you’re married, we’re going to let our inner sluts live vicariously through you,” Kenna answers in her drunken state.
“I’ve never been in love with anyone but Harrison. I don’t think that makes me much to live through. Sorry to disappoint.”
Kenna and Elodie let out a giggle as Maggie rolls her eyes. “Sheesh, are Dina and I the only girls to let our girlie parts play a little before we settled down? Kenna has only given it up to Jake. If my brother has his way, Tiffany, your who-ha will always be all his. I know, I know, Kenna, don’t let out Harry’s secrets. We all see through it, whether he’ll admit it to himself or not. We love Sophia, but Harrison is different when he talks about you. Since I can’t talk about that, and Alex isn’t getting laid … Elodie, what about you? Who are you fucking?”
Elodie almost spits her drink out on me. “No one. I’m in the middle of a divorce from my cheating husband. I don’t have time to date; I have our daughter to raise.”
“Well, damn. Good thing Brayden and I have it a little wild. You gals are boring,” Maggie says.
“Harrison has it wild,” I say, laughing hysterically.
“When I found out he hooked up with Sophia, I knew then he liked it wild,” Maggie responds with a wink. “I want him to have his wild, but also his rock. We all need a partner to weather the storms with, and Sophia can’t give him that. She is too distracted in her own world to be what my brother needs. Sophia is my friend, and I love her, but she’s wasting Harrison’s time and preventing him from seeing what’s right in front of him.”
“He’s happy with her, Maggie.”
“He’s comfortable with her. He’s deep down in your bones blissful with you. He smiles when he talks to you. Hell, he actually talks to you on a regular basis. Don’t get me wrong; he talks to Sophia, but not like he does you. It’s genuine with you. He cares. He is curious about whether you have a good day. It’s routine and duty with her. These are observations that anyone close to Harrison can see. Even my mom sees that he is different with you.
“When they came for the funeral, she watched how attentive and compassionate he was toward you. Harry’s not like that. He’s rough, unemotional, and cold at times. Mentioning your name, he softens, smiles a real smile, and he gives off a welcoming vibe. I’ve never known him to be like this with anyone else.”
Taking in all of Maggie’s words, I remain silent. We finish girls’ night out with no further discussions of Harrison’s feelings toward me.
I have never had so much fun before. Maggie and I really seemed to connect. Kenna even plans to keep in touch with both Elodie and me. Knowing this, I smile inwardly.
Matt, I really am making friends and letting people in. I’m not alone anymore. I’m learning to stand on my own, be myself, and love me as I am.
***
Harrison
Maggie and Kenna returned from their weekend event with Tiffany, going on and on about the fun they had.
Hearing Maggie talk like she and Tiffany have been friends for years brings me immeasurable happiness. I’m not sure why their friendship is affecting me like this, but it is.
I’m at Sophia’s shop to get some new ink. She has her station all set up for me to get a Roman Catholic cross with Matt’s initials around it on the available space on my upper arm.
I get in the seat, my shirt tucked up appropriately, and settle in for the tattoo. We aren’t far into the process before Sophia asks the question I have been waiting for.
“What is Tiffany to you now that Matt’s gone? I get that you have a past relationship, but Matt is dead; he’s not coming back. What’s your obligation to her?”
Her words are sharp and cold, a bitter reminder that she doesn’t understand the friendship I shared with Matt. It stings—the realization that the woman I spent three years with doesn’t really know me like I thought. The bond Tiffany and I share is incomprehensible to her.
“She was with me when I was injured. We weren’t even together in a serious way at the time. She sent care packages the entire deployment. When I got back Stateside because my knee was too far damaged, she was with my parents at the hospital. She dropped everything in her life to be by my side.
“When I was angry about being discharged, she let me get it all out. I threw things, cussed her out, and yelled at the top of my lungs, but she stood by, day in and day out, letting me sort through it all.
“When the pain was overbearing and physical therapy exhausting, she was there, massaging my tight muscles, relaxing me back to a calmer place.”
“She loves you. Do you realize that?” Sophia says on a whisper.
“Yeah, I guess she does in her own way,” I reply, thinking that, outside of Matt, all Tiffany had and has is me.
She’s doing well now and has made friends, gotten a job, her own place, all without her dad and without me or Matt holding her hand. Yes, she messed up and pushed me away, but I now know it’s not because she was ashamed of me. It was because she didn’t know how to be independent. She didn’t know how to face her father’s rejection. She’s stronger now and will one day have her happiness. She’s even dating someone.
“Why the sudden concern for Tiffany and what she is to me?” I ask. “I’m with you, Sophia.”
She shrugs. “She’s important to you. Things are different now that she’s back in the picture.” That’s all she says on the subject.
The tattoo is finished in relative silence before we head to her apartment. Inside, I kiss her slowly, teasing her lips with my own. As she opens her mouth, seeking more, I merely wisp my tongue across her top lip before sucking on her bottom. After the tattoo shop conversation, I’m determined to take things slowly and gently with her.
After undressing her, I lay her down on her stomach. Then I grab a bottle of baby oil out of the nightstand drawer. Moving her hair off her back and neck, I put a small amount on my hands, rubbing them together to warm it up.
I massage her neck slowly, working out every knot. As I begin to knead her shoulders and upper back, I lean down to nibble on her earlobe. Reaching her sides, I push my large hands along her ribs, lightly brushing the tips of my fingers on the under skin of her breasts. This motion sends shivers through her sensitive skin. Knowing the gentle manipulation is getting to her, I continue to focus on maintaining a slow, gentle pace.
Once at her ass, I lean down and brush my nose and lips across her completely relaxed back. She moans in peaceful bliss.
At the juncture of her ass and thighs, I tease her folds and asshole with my fingertips. Then I make my way down, still kneading and working her tired muscles, her legs becoming jelly in my hands.
Once I have made it all the way down to her feet, I pause to get comfortable before I take her left foot in my hand, bringing it to my mouth. I blow across the bottom of her foot then nip the arch. The unexpected pinch causes Sophia to squeal.
I bite my way back up her body. At her knees, I bend them under her, putting her pink pussy in my face. Pinning her legs down, continuing to massage them, I begin to lick and then pull back from her pussy, the tease causing her to rock back, seeking more.
“Please, Harrison, give me more. Fuck me, dammit!”
Ignoring her pleas, I continue sucking, just to pull away; licking, only to stop and blow.
“Spank me, Harrison. Do something. Give it to me hard. Stop this slow shit and fuck me!”
“Oh no, baby. Tonight is slow. Tonight, I’m not going to fuck you. I’m going to cherish you.”
Before I can stop her, she flips over underneath me, now face up, legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me onto her. As I stop my downward movement, trying to slow down the onslaught that is to come, she comes up and kisses me. All coherent thoughts are abandoned as lust takes over.
She wraps a condom around me before I can even comprehend that she had one in her hand, and I slam into her tight core without warning or forethought to stop myself. Lost in lust and sensation, I roll us over, allowing Sophia to control our pace.
She rides me hard and rough, leaning back, her hands on my thighs, as she arches her back, our bodies slapping against one another loudly.
As my climax builds, I reach between us and rub her clit in a furious pace. She falls forward onto me, sobbing as her orgasm courses through her body, sending me over the edge. The buildup of waiting gives her an additional dose of adrenaline that is now subsiding as the sensations engulf her.
I feel my chest wet with her tears. Not knowing why, I gently move her off me and head into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When I return and pull her to me, she’s quiet, unusually quiet. Something is wrong.
“Sophia, baby,” I start, but before I can finish, she puts her hand on my mouth to quiet me.
“Not right now, Harrison, please.”
Deciding to let it go for now, I rub her back in small circles until she finally drifts off to sleep.
No matter how hard I try, sleep evades me. I need to know what’s really going on with Sophia.