Chapter Seven
Summer
I don’t know what has come over me. I’m a shy person by nature. I had my wild moments after Michael destroyed my life, but for a long time after that, my life went back to being quiet and calm like when the water at the beach laps silently against the sand on the shore. That was my life, quiet, calm, collected. But this mysterious stranger has reawakened something inside of myself that I thought was dead, and I like it.
A lot.
I find myself dreaming about him late at night, and it has helped keep the memories of what Michael did to me at bay. How he stole my innocence, my virginity, and what was left of my high school life, and destroyed everything. It hurts to think about it. Before I went to Black Lightning, that’s all I did, was think about Michael and what he stole from me. I hope I never see that man again.
That’s why I spent all of the last week at Black Lightning and am content with doing the same thing again this week. I know I am in for a long week, waiting and hoping that my mystery man is out there somewhere watching me. This is the only time that I am able to let go of Michael completely, here in the club, where my every thought is filled with visions and memories of the stranger that has fucked me expertly and more thoroughly than anyone else has before him. I just wish I knew who he was. I would love to get to know the man who has managed to capture my every thought, but he seems content with just fucking me in the darkness and walking away. The ball is in his court, and I have to be satisfied with what he wants to give me.
For now.
Hopefully, someday soon, he wants something more from me. I’d be willing to go out with him outside of this club and see where this thing between us goes, but how can I do that without making myself sound like a clingy woman who wants to strap herself to a man whose name she doesn’t even know? God, I sound like a needy, desperate woman in my head right now. Not even to bring up the fact that I’m having sex with a complete stranger like a wanton whore.
I spend long hours at the hospital during the day, barely able to do my job, consumed with thoughts of the dark stranger with the sexy voice and body. I know I’m being watched by the hospital director, she never did like me much, and now that I’m not concentrating all my energy on doing my job, she’s starting to take notice. A part of me doesn’t give a fuck. I’ve always given a hundred and ten percent at work, so why can’t I take a few days where I only work at eighty percent capacity? I still do my job better than the other girls. The other day one of them neglected the patient that had just come out of surgery, and the patient got sick and almost died. Do you think she got fired for that or reprimanded? Nope, the director smiled at her and kept going. Had that been me, I’d have been fired on the spot. Hell, she probably would’ve made it so no hospital in Washington state would hire me.
I called in sick today, I couldn’t take being there anymore after the day I had yesterday. It is only Wednesday, and I’ve already had enough. I instead play hooky and go shopping at my new favorite lingerie store. I’ve been becoming more and more bold as the days have gone on. I’m not brave enough to go into the club only wearing my bra and panties, but I’ve been dangerously coming close to crossing that line, and I could care less. For once, I’m enjoying living life on the edge, it makes me feel alive again and for the first time in years, makes me want to get up the next day and prepare to do this all over again. I wouldn’t change this for anything else in the world.
The second I see the light blue lace lingerie dress that is the moment I know I will be wearing it tonight. It matches my eyes, and I’m delighted to find a matching lingerie set to wear underneath it. I know I’m playing with fire, but I like the way he grabs me and drags me with him into the darkness. I know it drives him nuts to watch other men approach me. I want it that way. I want him to be consumed with thoughts of me in the same way he’s consumed my every thought. I don’t want the other men in the club, only him. It doesn’t matter to me that he has no clue, I know it, and that’s all that matters to me right now.
I take my purchase with me and head to the salon to get my hair done, deciding I want to be blonder and want curls in my hair for tonight. I sit in the salon for more than three hours, sipping champagne and enjoying the warmth that spreads through the lower half of my body when I imagine what his face will look like tonight. I know he’s out there watching me in the club. I can feel his eyes burning a hole through me, but most of the time he doesn’t approach. If he does tonight, this will only be the third time. I hope he does tonight because I’m doing all of this for him.
Pulling up to the club later that night, I almost don’t want to get out of the car. The only reason I put on a bra and panties is because I don’t want to get arrested for indecent exposure, even still, I feel naughty. I’m tempted to pull on the jacket my stranger left behind, but I don’t want to lose it, so I bravely pull on my matching light blue pumps and step out of my car, enjoying the way the crisp air of the night cools my heated skin. I feel like my entire body is on fire. All of this could be for nothing, and if it is for nothing, I’m going to be masturbating at home tonight. I hate masturbating now, he’s ruined it for me, I barely cum anymore, yet a few minutes with him and I’m ready to go off like a rocket.
Stepping into the club, several eyes turn to look at me, but most people are used to my provocative attire by now, so no one says anything to me. I walk straight to the bar and order a Mojito needing the liquid courage to get through tonight. I sip it slowly, looking around the club to see who is here tonight. There aren’t as many people here tonight, most people only come here on the weekends, they don’t come here in the middle of the week. Only crazy people such as myself do that.
I finish my drink just as a Spanish song comes on. The liquid swims inside of me, adding to my boldness, all of my inhibitions falling by the wayside. I slam my empty glass down onto the counter and with wobbly legs, make my way out to the center of the dance floor. The song, Mayores by Becky G blares throughout the club and makes me want to let loose in the center of the club. I’m tired of caring, tired of pretending everything is fine, so I let everything go and shake my hips. My arms float above my head, and I run my hands through my freshly done hair, enjoying the way the beat fills my entire body. I feel free, and I don’t stop the man that comes up behind me to dance. I know this isn’t my stranger because he allows me to see his face, not hiding at all.
I allow him to grab my hips and I grind against him, my hands coming up and wrapping around his neck, my ass shaking against him when he grinds into me. I feel bold, especially when I feel his eyes on me. Across the bar, in a darkened corner, I see him. I can’t see his face, but with that hat covering most of his face, instinctively, I know that’s him over there. Watching, waiting, ready to pounce. I can tell he doesn’t like the man dancing behind me right now, but I want him to watch, I want him to come and take over. Take what belongs to him. I’m his whether I want to admit it or if he wants me. My body wants him and only him. The only reason I’m grinding into the guy behind me the way I am is because I know he’s watching me.
I let go of the guy behind me and bring one of my finger into my mouth and run it down the front of my body seductively, watching him the whole time. I like the way he licks his lips and takes a few steps in my direction. I run both hands down my body, grabbing my tits through my dress and tugging on my nipple rings.
Just as the song is starting to wind down, he crooks his finger at me, silently commanding me to come to him. I go without hesitation, not even bothering to say anything to the man standing behind me. He doesn’t like this, his raised voice tells me this and the way he tugs on my arm to bring me back over to him.
I look up to see my mystery man taking a menacing step in our direction, and the man immediately releases me and holds his hands up defensively allowing me to go to the man waiting for me. I like the way his eyes travel my body, his trail leaving fire in its wake. Tonight, he’s wearing a long sleeve shirt, covering his entire body from me and his ripped jeans give nothing away about who he is. I’m dying to see his face and body, I’m dying to find out who this man is, to put a face to the man who knows my body so well, but if he doesn’t want me to know who he is, I’m not going to push the subject. I want to know who he is, but I want to keep him more. Too many questions might scare him off.
I allow him to pull me to the back corner behind the bar, my body still fueled by the alcohol filling my body with courage. I turn my body away from him when he pushes himself up against the wall, continuing the dance I was doing with the other man and grinding my hips into his. I love it when he lifts my dress to expose my ass and pushes my panties to the side so he can test for my wetness. His growl tells me he likes what he finds there.
He wraps my hair in his fist and yanks my head back. My breath hitches when he brings his lips up next to my ear.
“Are you wet for him or me? Answer me,” he commands, his erection pushing into me enticingly.
“Only you,” I moan, pushing back against him invitingly.
“This fucking dress of yours is the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life, sweetness,” he releases my hair and tweaks my nipples through my dress with his fingers.
“Fuck,” I moan. “I’ve been dying to feel your hands on me again.”
“I want to be the only man that touches you,” he growls. Confusion fills me when he pulls my dress back down and grabs my hand so he can drag me out the back door of the club.
I think he’s going to fuck me right here with all these people around, but he surprises me by pulling me behind him over to a motorcycle parked in the street. I look around me to see who is watching, but no one seems to notice us over here. This can’t be his, I hope he’s not fixing to steal it. I don’t feel like going to jail tonight. I may be feeling reckless, but a trip to a jail cell is not a thing I’m looking to do tonight.
My head whips back around to face him when the bike starts, and he pulls me over to get on behind him.
“You might want to hold on tight,” he commands, kicking up the stand and pushing down the throttle and sending his bike flying down the street. I squeal and hold onto him tighter, enjoying the feeling of being pressed tightly against him.
I don’t care where he’s taking me, I just don’t want this night to end. I’ll go wherever he takes me, without complaint.
Belatedly I realize I forgot to grab my purse from the coat check and don’t have my keys to my car or to get into my apartment. I’m not about to point that out to the man in front of me. I instead focus on watching him expertly maneuver the motorcycle down the highway and into the darkness of the night. This man seems to enjoy the darkness, he always takes me to the darkest places he can find. Tonight is no exception.
He stops about half an hour later, pulling his motorcycle to a stop at the top of a deserted hill. I dismount and step away from him and over to the edge so I can look down at Maple Valley spread out before me. I’ve never been up here and never knew there was such a place with a beautiful view. Had I known, I would’ve spent more time up here, this is the perfect place to forget about all of your worries.
He comes to stand beside me minutes later, his hands in his pockets. He’s not focused on me, he’s instead looking out at the view, a painful look on his face. He’s a handsome man, the beginning of a five o’clock shadow on his face, green eyes that when he looks into mine, hold so many secrets. This man has been damaged by someone, I can tell. His eyes hold the same pain that mine do on most nights. I long to remove that hat of his and get a good look at him. As far as I know, I don’t know this man, and I want to for some reason. I can’t help but feel if I was a different woman and he was a different man, if our circumstances were different, we’d be perfect for one another. He looks to be about my age, maybe a few years older, and all I want to do is kiss away that pain on his face.
We are now entering dangerous territory.