Seven Years Ago, Part 2
Gwen emerged from the back room of the bar to find James there, again.
She shook her head in nothing but curious amusement. That guy showed up twice or thrice a week at the most awkward time. (Was it too much to ask to have no customers while Gwen cleaned up and prepped for the rush sure to come in the next two hours?) Usually, he kept to himself, but occasionally he made light conversation with her. That didn’t count the amount of times she glanced over her shoulder while she did some dishes or took inventory and caught him staring at her ass.
Typical. Men always stared at her ass. They often hit on her, too. It wasn’t a Saturday night unless Gwen made a pile of tips because she charmed the men that came into the bar into thinking they had even the slightest bit of a chance with her.
Okay, so sometimes they did. Gwen didn’t make a habit of it, but for the right guy, she was willing to go home and have a good time. Bonus points if he came into the bar again and continued to give her tips. As long as they didn’t think she was their girlfriend, all was good.
James was trouble.
Cute, charming trouble.
Their conversations over the past few weeks had revealed that he was in training to take over his family’s business, whatever it was. Once guys started talking about business, Gwen tuned them out. Blah, blah, blah. Stocks, bonds, buyouts, and mergers. Whatever. Sounded like a goofy ‘80s movie.
James was a goofy kind of guy. He may have looked like he stepped out of a men’s watch catalog – that wasn’t knocking his appearance, by the way – and was affable enough to joke around with, but every time James started saying something serious, he pulled back and turned it into a jest instead.
At least he was genuinely funny, and he didn’t rely on crass, offensive humor to get his points across. While most of those jokes weren’t fit for a kid’s ear, Gwen didn’t have to hear curse word after slur, and that was always a pleasant night at the bar.
That night, when she emerged to find her favorite customer waiting for her at the far end of the bar, she spared him a smile and approached with a slight wave of her hand. “Hey, stranger,” she said. “Get you the usual?”
“If the usual will make me forget that horrible meeting I had earlier.”
Gwen had a feeling it would, especially if she pumped it with a little extra liquor. “Bad day at the office again?”
“The worst. My dad is a tyrant. News at eleven.”
Chuckling, Gwen swiftly made his favorite drink using the same top shelf stuff he singlehandedly made them reorder more than once since he started coming around. “Your life is so hard. Mr. Trust Fund.”
“Hey, I work for that trust fund.” James winked at her when the glass appeared before him. “I work to keep my father happy. A happy father means a happy trust fund for many years to come.”
“Is that how they work? I wouldn’t know. I’m from scholarship country.” Gwen braced herself against the bar. She knew her breasts were pushed toward James’s face, but she had long since decided she didn’t care if he respectfully ogled her. The man paid her enough tips to make her think she was in one of those clubs, anyway. Might as well give him a little extra for his time.
“Of course it’s not how they work. But if I pretend it is, I can feel like I have more control over my fate.”
“Ah, yes, fate. Is that what keeps bringing you into my bar?”
“Why, Ms. Mitchell,” James said with a waggle of his eyebrows, “are you finally flirting back with me in earnest?”
She snorted. “You’d like that, I bet.”
“I mean, your lovely face and ability to banter with me is the second reason I keep coming back here.”
“Only the second?”
“The drinks are top notch, Gwen. I’m telling you, it’s amazing this place doesn’t have more customers.”
She laughed. “Wanna hear a secret? I don’t water your drinks down.”
She left him with that nugget as she walked away. She would have been disappointed if he weren’t staring at her ass.
James was the kind of customer Gwen appreciated while always keeping a careful eye on him. Guys like that? The ones with the big wallets and not afraid to drop in during the slow times to make light conversation and crack jokes? They usually wanted something. Namely, her.
Gwen had been dealing with guys like James for years, long before she started bartending full time. Apparently, she had a cool je ne sais quoi that made her popular with men of all types and backgrounds. Most of them weren’t worth her time. Occasionally, she picked up a temporary boyfriend or a one-night stand that was adequate enough for her to keep doing it. But there were some men that made her uneasy, and she wasn’t sure why.
Sure, creeps were creeps, and Gwen smelled them from a mile away. Those were the obvious ones. Sometimes guys were so good at hiding their creep levels that Gwen went out on dates and soon regretted it. After a few years of dealing with one creep after another, she was content to live the single life and ignore any guy who followed established patterns of behavior.
She couldn’t make out what kind of guy James Merange was.
Lovable buffoon that had a crush on her? Or a sinister playboy playing the long con? Some unholy mix of the two?
Gwen returned to the counter to find James glancing at her from his phone. Did he think she was fooling her with the old, I’m on my phone trick? The screen was black.
She was curious enough to ask him what his deal was, but knew better than to risk whatever professional bartender-client relationship they maintained. No matter how cute James was, Gwen was better off…
“Do you have a boyfriend, Gwen?”
Ah. There it was. His next move would be to hit on her.
A part of Gwen wanted to see where it went. It had nothing to do with his supposed money, either. (Gwen didn’t bother Googling him or his family until they started going out. What an eye opener that was…) James was intriguing, wasn’t he? Boyish charms encased in a mature, masculine air. A youthful quality that clashed against his expensive clothes and a smart head for business. James wasn’t childlike or immature. He was in careful control of his humor. For all Gwen knew, these trips to the bar were one of his only chances to let his real nature shine. That almost makes me feel special. He chose to be around her when letting off steam. Alone, but was he really alone when Gwen was only a shout away? They had casual conversations for weeks before taking it further.
Casual enough for him to ask if she had a boyfriend? Maybe.
“I’m single,” Gwen said, standing a few feet more than usual away from him. Survival instinct. James would either take the news graciously, or he would up the sleaze. As much as Gwen wanted to believe that James was different… she wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t. Life had jaded her.
James narrowed his eyes, sat back in his seat, and asked, “How?”
Crossing his arms was a nice touch, but Gwen wasn’t buying it. “What do you mean how? How what? Do I not have a boyfriend?”
“Yes. Unless you broke up with someone five hours ago, I’m not sure how you could possibly be single.”
“Like I haven’t heard this pickup line before.”
“Who says I’m trying to pick you up? I’m trying to understand how someone as nice and amiable as you is single.”
She snorted. “Not all of us want to be attached to the old ball and chain.”
“Who said anything about marriage? I’m talking about having a man who treats you right and puts that extra skip in your step.”
“And is easy on the eyes, I’m sure.”
James grinned. Damnit. That’s the kind of grin that gets girls in trouble. Not Gwen, though. She had sworn off getting in trouble. “Let me know if you do find a guy like that. Maybe I’d like to date him.”
Gwen paled. Oh, no. She had never considered that after all this time…
James might be gay!
“What?” He pocketed his phone and pointed to the exasperated look on Gwen’s face. “Got a problem with a guy who’s comfortable with who he is?”
“Not at all.” Woo, boy. Gwen’s best friend from high school, now going by the drag queen name of Lady Priss-zilla, would love to hear that she had offended a gay guy. “Just didn’t think you were… never mind. You want me to top that drink off for you?”
James didn’t directly answer the question. Not that one, anyway. Instead, he tugged on his growing facial hair and with a wag of the eyebrows said, “I’ll have you know that I have much more experience with the ladies.”
“Uh huh.”
“Just… what happens in Texas, stays in Texas.”
“Texas?”
“Long story. There was this conference, some guy from Montreal with a hot French accent… bah. Loose lips sink ships.”
“Maybe I should be asking if you have a boyfriend, James.”
“Why?” Her perked up. “You interested? Because I could tell Ronaldo to pack his stuff and be out of my condo by midnight.”
“A French Canadian named Ronaldo? Send him to my house instead.”
“At least we’ve established that you like guys.”
“We’ve established the same thing about you!” Gwen leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. “Are you hitting on me or not? I can’t tell anymore.”
“How could you misconstrue this as anything but intense flirting to get you more intimately into my life, Gwen?”
“You started talking about some guy named Ronaldo.”
“You’re confused. He doesn’t exist.” James continued to grin. “Unlike you.”
“You’re right. I do exist. As I’m sure you’ve established over these past few weeks you’ve come in here to make eyes at me.”
Chuckling, James leaned forward again and said, “So you’ve noticed?”
“A guy going out of his way to come in here during my off-hours? Getting to know me through trite conversation?” Gwen met him halfway across the counter, her grin grand enough to suck him into a deadly vortex of her making. Think I’ll let him live, though. Why not? Could be fun. James wasn’t pinging any warning bells. The worst he’d do was get over Gwen the moment she gave in to him. She’d miss the tips, but…
Maybe it was worth it for the thrill?
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Gwen continued. “Kinda hard to miss in a boring place like this.”
“So you’re saying I’m not boring?”
She laughed. “Are you always this self-deprecating? Because it’s kinda cute.”
“I can be the most self-critical prick you’ve ever met if it means making you smile.”
Didn’t she give him the reaction he wanted? Gwen could hardly contain the giddiness surfacing in her chest, and when she laughed again, it was with a hearty guffaw that almost made James join her in such madness.
“Damn,” he said, “does this mean if I don’t ask you out right now, I’ll lose my chance forever?”
“Why forever?”
He cocked his head. “I might not have the guts to try again.”
“Oh, now I don’t believe that.” Yet Gwen swelled with the knowledge that she had the power to fell this man’s ego with a simple “no.” She wasn’t a whim. She wasn’t someone he thought he might have a chance with, so why not ask? Almost like he fancied her so much that he subjected himself to this thrice-weekly charade of being a simple customer in a lonely, mid-tier bar. More customers would show up later and dominate Gwen’s time. James needed to take his chance now if he were going to tonight. “You mean guys don’t do those endless pursuits like I see in the movies?”
“I’m told that’s creepy, so I’ve cut back on it.”
“You don’t wanna be creepy?”
“Can’t say it’s in my nature. Catch more flies with honey, right?”
He finished his drink, smacking his lips when the glass touched the counter. His large breaths made his chest contract against his fitted dress shirt. Gwen had to refrain from biting her bottom lip as she openly checked out James in his work clothes. He smells like a million dollars. Can you even buy his cologne in department stores? Probably not. His cologne was purchased in an ivory New York tower, where one required a membership to enter, and memberships were only handed out to princely sons and their spoiled sisters.
Gwen glanced at the clock. She could have this place closed now and reopened later without anyone – least of all her boss – finding out.
***
Cleaning supplies fell off the nearby desk when Gwen was slammed against the wall. “No, no!” she said, pushing James off her and taking his hand. “This corner. The security camera looks right over here!”
He was too flushed with disbelief that this was happening to mind his words. “Maybe I’m cool with a little exhibition. Can be fun in the right moment.”
Giggling, Gwen drew him into a cramped, dark corner of the office. “This isn’t the right moment for that.”
“Aw, it’s not?”
She cupped his scruffy cheeks between her hands, desperation mounting in the pit of her warm stomach. “Maybe some other time.”
“You’ve already decided that there’s going to be another time?”
Gwen pulled him into her arms. It took two seconds for her to confidently hop up and wrap her legs around his waist. Ah, there it is. The crazy need to fuck a guy. When she made the decision to let him into the back room for a little romp, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be wooed or dominated. Well, maybe not dominated. This wasn’t some naughty erotic romance novel, after all. Even if James were wealthy enough to be named Christian Grey and she… well, she was no Anastasia “The Virgin” Steele. No casting director wouldn’t look twice at her when lining up that list of characters. But she was the blue-collar heroine looking for a little fun, a little heat, and a whole lotta adventure. James could provide some of that, if only for a night.
Their first kiss was both tentative and intense. The kind of first kiss that left a permanent imprint on her mind. Even if she never saw James again, that single kiss held the power to make her pine for him every night for the rest of her life. Other men could come and go. She could marry some perfectly nice boy and live a comfortable life. But she would never, ever forget the kiss she stole in the office in the back of the bar. Not when the man smelled like the billions in his trust fund and slammed her against the wall like a fiend.
A gasp eked from her lips when James pushed her up the wall, his face in her breasts and her hands wrapping tightly around the back of his neck.
“How long have you been waiting for this, huh?” Gwen asked.
Her shirt ascended her torso. The plaid overshirt on her arms was soon on the floor. Even the t-shirt covering her sports bra was too much clothing for a man in a three-piece suit. “Since the first night I saw you in this bar,” James confessed.
That was one of the corniest things he could say, but Gwen wasn’t going to deny that she wanted to hear more corny words from James Merange. Somehow, he made them earnest. There was something about him that was inherently trustworthy. Not just for a playmate in the bedroom. For a future husband, if Gwen could ever believe it.
No way. I’m getting waaay ahead of myself!
“To be fair,” she said, his kisses on her bare stomach driving her mad, “I’ve been into you since you first walked into my bar, too.”
He slammed his mouth against hers. “I know,” he muttered.
Gwen didn’t usually do this, but when the moment called for having a quickie with a relative stranger in the back office of her place of employment… she wasn’t going to ignore her instincts. They had been good to her for most of her life. When her body whispered, “Go ahead and have some fun with him,” she was inclined to listen.
And enjoy herself.
While Gwen was familiar with men and their diverse bodies and ways of making love, she was still surprised to discover how different James was. It wasn’t only the tantalizing scent of his cologne and the natural odor beneath his clothes. Nor was it limited to the powerful kisses devouring her lips and the strong hands feeling up her shirt and squeezing her breasts. It was the breadth of his chest, the bite of his tongue, and the quiet grunts of disbelief that he could be with a woman like her. Gwen didn’t feel like she was “giving in” to him. Nor was she indulging him. This was purely about their mutual attraction and fate dictating who she went out with for a while.
Maybe this wasn’t forever, but it wasn’t just a night, either. Gwen knew that the moment James groaned into her mouth and finished unzipping her jeans.
“Hold up, big boy,” she said with a grin against his cheek. “You better not be…”
She slid down the wall so he could rummage through his pockets. The urgency of his actions was almost adorable. He’s so eager to fuck me that he’s going to take twice as long looking through his belongings than if he calmed the hell down. She wanted to laugh, but that risked hurting his feelings. Gwen didn’t want that kind of negativity in the room. She wanted nothing but mirth and raw, sexual potency to guide her through these next five minutes.
“Oh, thank God.” James let out a sigh of relief when he finally found his wallet. Not because he cared about the cash and credit cards, but because he had a condom in there, and that was the most important thing in the world. “I was going to feel like a stupid jackass.”
“Aw.” Gwen welcomed him back into her arms. “You could still be a stupid jackass. Live your dreams.”
“My dreams include fucking you, if that’s okay.”
“Am I sending mixed signals or something? The only thing stopping you right now is your stamina.”
“I’ve got plenty of stamina.”
Gwen grinned. “Prove it.”
Oh, he did.
They went for the proverbial quickie not only because Gwen had a limited amount of time before customers started showing up to the bar, but because it was hot. The rush, the urgency, the incredible need for one another that they shared was enough to fell lesser humans, but Gwen and James embraced it as if they had nothing else to gain from this one-off tryst that could easily span the rest of their lives.
“Wow. You’re… wow.”
Gwen was too aroused to chastise James for his sudden lack of a vocabulary. Not when those were his fingers slipping inside of her and marveling at how wet she already was for him. Okay, maybe I had a head start because he’s so good looking. Having him slam her against the wall and go at her like a beast? Yeah, she was a little wet. Just a little.
James was pretty wow himself. All he showed her was the top few buttons of his shirt undone… and his cock.
She wanted to say something smart, something he would remember for the rest of his life every time he looked down and saw his cock in his hand. Yet Gwen was at a loss for words once she realized that this was happening. She was being a bad girl at work, and James was the bad boy she had chosen for a wild adventure.
So, maybe she wouldn’t use her words. Maybe she’d let her body do all the talking. Not like she was going anywhere with him pressed between her legs like that!
“Oh, hell yes!” Gwen cried when he slowly entered her, his breaths echoing in the small corner of the office, and her voice a stark reminder that what they were doing was naughty. If he wants naughty, I can give him naughty. Was it naughty to have a body that greedily welcomed him, even if their descent into sexual madness was ripe with friction and what came with discovering each other’s physical quirks for the first time? (Yes.) The moment James was all the way in, his breath consuming the soft flesh of her throat and his hands clenching her thighs, Gwen swore that this was meant to be.
All the way down to how he kissed her as he began to thrust.
Years later, when they had ample time to reflect upon the long, languid road of their relationship, Gwen would safely say that their first time having sex was “Perfect.” Someone watching them, however, may have begged to differ. Was it really perfect if she had to stop and ask him to readjust himself so he didn’t quite dig so much into the wrong corner of her pussy? How could it be perfect if he bruised her thighs because he didn’t think about how much strength he used to hold her up? Or what the hell was so perfect about the awkward sound coming out of Gwen’s mouth when James hit her favorite spot halfway through fucking her? She sounded like a mangled duck, for fuck’s sake! It was a miracle he didn’t pull out and ask if she were the Ugly Duckling instead of a swan princess!
But those were the little quirks of a first time – of every time – that made it perfect. Memorable. A fun story for Gwen to tell the girls for years to come. She would smile every time she recalled James saying, “Hang on, my hip is cramping,” as if his cramping hip was comparable to the strain put on her tailbone as it continued to slide down the wall every time he thrust into her core. Both showed their humanity in the span of five glorious minutes. The fact it felt good and sated their sexual curiosities was a bonus.
How could it be any more perfect than that?
Gwen clung to his broad shoulders when she sensed he was on the verge of climaxing. The sort of elation infiltrating her body wasn’t necessarily orgasmic – in fact, she would never remember if she properly climaxed or not that night – but it was the type of pleasure akin to cruising down the beachside highway on a sunny day, the top down and the warm breeze whipping in her hair. It was a rush. It claimed her like he claimed her, one powerful movement of his hips at a time.
Her fingers dug into his suit. Wrinkled it beyond repair.
There was something quietly infectious about the way their tryst concluded. James blushed when Gwen’s feet touched the ground and she threaded her fingers through her tousled hair. The boyish way he fixed his own hair and offered to smooth down the errant strand of blond sticking up on her head made her shudder. Not even having sex had made her shudder like that.
That was beyond intimate. Had they been in bed, Gwen would have easily thrown her arm across his chest and snuggled into the crook of his neck. The endorphins fueling her thoughts needed an outlet. How fair was it to stand there with nothing to say but, “Thanks?”
James lightly kissed her forehead. “I’ve gotta… uh…” Was he still blushing? Why? Wasn’t he Mr. Confident?
“Bathroom’s right through there.” Gwen pointed. “Hurry up, though. It’s the only one we’ve got, and I’ve gotta use it too.” Someone needed to wash up before going back to work.
“Maybe you should go first.” Except for that thing neither of them mentioned. Gwen wasn’t about to suggest that her lover throw out the used condom in the office trashcan. She had some decorum.
“Oh, give me that.” She wasn’t shy, particularly about her own bodily fluids. She had to wash her hands anyway, right? Might as well take on the role of utmost responsibility and ditch the condom deep in the pits of the bathroom trash. I have to take it out at the end of my shift, anyway!
Gwen didn’t expect to see James when she came out of the bathroom ten minutes later. But there he was, milling about the bar in his wrinkled suit yet still looking like the spoiled son of a million dollars.
There were two patrons in the bar, looking around for their bartender. When they saw Gwen’s face, their own lit up. James disappeared into the bathroom, and Gwen got back to work.
Well, that was fun. She could only chuckle to herself as she made two martinis and served the two women sitting at the bar. They continued to gab about their night class at the local community college and how it conflicted with their ability to pick up their kids after school. Something about Kaylynn’s soccer practice and Bradlynn’s choir group. Gwen was too infatuated with what had happened in the back room to care what these two women had to say.
That was good sex, right? Gwen pretended to study the bottles on the top shelf, as if she were deciding which to replace and which to measure. Nobody would know she reflected upon the quickie she shared with James behind that wall. His kisses were definitely the best… but I wonder how he would be in an actual bed…
James rapped on the bar, startling her. Gwen spun around. There he was, the man of her hour, looking like he was stepping out for work.
“I’ve gotta get going,” he said with a wink. “See you next time?”
“You’re coming back?”
His pleasant smile faltered. “Am I not welcomed back?”
The women at the other end of the bar had stopped talking and stared at them. Gwen brushed them off with a sigh and said, “See you next time, James.”
He hesitated before leaving, a friendly wave the only thing left in his wake. Gwen peered after him before resolving to get back to work. She could reflect upon making love to James Merange later.
“Your boyfriend?” one of the women asked. “He’s cute.”
Gwen flipped the switch that transformed her into the amiable bartender, ready to fish for tips and pour drinks. Maybe in that order. “I guess so. He’s a friend, anyway.”
“Ah, look at you blush!” said the other woman. “Reminds me of when I was your age.”
“You seriously can’t be that much older than me.”
“Not really! I got married early and started having kids right away. But it feels like a lifetime ago.” The woman elbowed her friend. “Think Joe would mind if I took off with that guy who left just now? Oh, sorry,” she said to Gwen. “Don’t mean to make you think I’m going after your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my…”
“Gwen!” James was back, slapping his hands on the bar top and startling her once more. “When’s your next day off?”
She looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head. “Tuesday?”
“Tues… drat.” He put his hands on his hips. “All right. Tell you what. Promise me a date on Tuesday, and I’ll cancel all my business plans. We’ll do whatever you want. How about the planetarium? You wanna go to the planetarium?”
Was that the first thing he thought of? Adorable. “Never been to the planetarium. Is it even open on Tuesdays?”
“If it’s not, I’ll make them open it. We’ll have it all to ourselves.”
His earnest manner beguiled her. “All right, James. You and me. The planetarium on Tuesday.”
“Awesome. See you there.” He had an extra skip to his step as he walked out. The women teased Gwen for daring to decry that man as her boyfriend.
Five minutes later, James came running back in.
“Your number!” Gwen had been pouring a new patron his drink. “I need your number!”
She told him he could have it if they ever went on a second date.
Seven years later, her number had yet to change, and James could recite it off the top of his head.