31. Annie
Chapter Thirty-One
ANNIE
M ind: blown, with pieces caught in my hair, on my clothes, and in the rubber mats under my feet. What the fuck just happened.
I finish the ledger and slide it into a drawer, struggling to accept that this night isn’t a dream. It has to be. “Of course you love it. All men love AC/DC.”
“That’s because all men have good taste,” he throws back.
“I disagree with that.” I grab a clean towel, dunk it in the sink, wring it out and wipe the bar counter down as we talk. Many, many times, I steal looks at him, watching him picking up those chairs with his muscles tensing each and every delicious time.
“That’s because you women don’t get the genius. Women hate AC/DC.”
His smile is challenging, and it stirs up my competitive streak. “See, now that’s bullshit.”
His eyebrows fly up.
“Is that so? Bullshit, you say?”
I make a pffth sound and nod, moving the pile of napkins over so I can get under them. “Total bullshit. We don’t like AC/ DC because most of us mistakenly believe that there was only one singer, not knowing that Bon Scott died in his own vomit, thereby leaving the band to have to settle for the screaming fuckhead who took over. It’s the screaming fuckhead we don’t like!”
“Because who would like a screaming fuckhead.” He’s stealing glances at me, too, but I’m too caught up in my argument to notice.
“Yeah! When women – any woman I’ve ever made listen to them – when they hear Live Wire, amazing. Dirty Deeds, priceless. It’s A Long Way To The Top? Awesome. And they’re confused, thinking, hey this is pretty funny stuff. But it’s AC/DC so they blow it off and discount it, because they are forced to stick to their guns and think men just love that screaming fuckhead and Lord only knows why.” I grab the condiment tray and almost spill out the olives when I see his face. “What?”
He puts down the chair he’s holding, and crooks a finger my way. “Come here.”
Oh, shit. Am I in trouble? I walk around the bar to him, and as I meet his eyes again I see that the only trouble I’m going to have is keeping him out of my pants. In other words, none. He’s looking at me like I’m meat and he hasn’t eaten for two years. I stop just short of climbing onto him without further ado. “Yes?”
“You’re too far away.” He pulls me in to him. “And you’re wrong about AC/DC.”
“I’m not.” He smiles, and shakes his head briefly. I gaze up at him as he ebbs closer.
“You make a very compelling argument but you’re wrong.”
I close my eyes and say on a whisper, “Back In Black is a screeching disaster.”
His eyes dance. “You’re very, very wrong.”
He kisses me, opening my mouth with his. The soft tip of his tongue touches mine and we move on each other. My fingers languidly slip into his wavy hair. His hands travel up my back and he firmly pulls me in as close as he can, our bodies becoming smashed. He’s growing hard against me, the strength of him so powerful. Our kiss moves faster, until we’re gasping and urgent. I want to dissolve every moment we’ve ever been apart. I want to give myself to him. Every cell. Every pulse.
“Wait. Wait.” I say on a gasp, pulling away. “Not in front of the window. It’s my business and I…”
“Of course. You’re right.”
“So move me out of sight already.”
He laughs. “Oh.” Picking me up in a standing position, my feet slightly off the ground. I feel the wall come up against my back as our mouths move on each other and he sets me down. Reluctantly, he pulls away to look to the window, check to see if we’re hidden. We both glance over. All clear. He mutters against my lips, “If we can’t see it, then it can’t see us.”
He pushes me hard up against the wall. His hands fluidly move down my body and back up to hold my breasts, cupping and massaging them while we kiss. With tantalizing slowness, he nibbles down my neck. I close my eyes, losing myself to the feelings, aching for him. Through the halter fabric he flicks my nipples with his thumbs, bites me, tugs on my neck, pulling it between his lips. He’s the man and I’m the woman. He wants me to know and I want nothing else. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. My leg wraps around him to press against the bulge in his pants. His fingers slip behind me, down inside the back of my jeans and under the wisp of lacey fabric below. He presses hard into the flesh of my ass, massaging me in time with kisses as he takes my mouth again in his.
Suddenly he pulls back to look at me, eyes hooded. His hungry smile fades quickly. He searches me. I stare back at him, my breaths shortened now. “What? What’s wrong?”
“There’s something familiar about you.”
No! Not now! You can’t recognize me now!
I shake my head. “I’d remember you.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Totally sure. Very sure. Kiss me again.”
He grins. “Fair enough.” Rock-hard, he pushes against me again, his lips so close to mine I can feel the heat of his breath as he hungrily tells me, “I’d like to do more than just kiss you. I want to rip off these clothes and take you right here against this wall.” I watch him through a haze of need as he comes in and kisses me hard, opening my lips with his to find my tongue again and suck on it. Grinding me mindless, rocking my body up and down, all I want is for him to do that. The delicious burning ache is so intense and so, so good.
I bend my neck as he kisses my earlobe. “I want you, Annie.” The heat of his breath sizzles me, but the words are what really knock me over. I’ve wanted to hear this ever since the first day I saw him. He’d been thumbing through one of his textbooks on the way to class when the shade disappeared and the sun bounced bright off the white page. He’d looked up to the sky and the light caught the blue in his eyes so beautifully that my mouth had dropped open. I’d been sitting under the tree he walked under, enjoying the same shade and doing my usual disappearing act. I just stared at him. Of course he didn’t see me. I thought he was going to leave, but instead he backed up into the shade right in front of me to finish what he was reading, giving me full license to gaze at his profile, memorizing his angled chin, the strength of his neck, his arm taught under the grasp of the stack of books he balanced. When he closed the top one, I watched him walk all the way into the building, thinking, if I married that man, I would be the happiest woman who ever lived. I just knew. It felt like I had always loved him.
“I want you too, Brendan,” I say, so quietly I’m not sure if he can hear me. By the look in his eyes, he did. He wrestles the arms out of his jacket, chucking it to the ground. I struggle with the buttons of his shirt while he helps me, and as bit by bit, his chest is revealed, I just stare in awe.
“You’re making me blush,” he jokes.
“Yeah right.” Lust whips through me as my fingertips trace the two delicious lines leading down to the promised land. He’s so grown up now. I bend to kiss his broadened chest, tasting him. He groans and bends into me. My hands rest on the belt of his jeans as I kiss my way across his chest. I lock eyes with him as I unzip his jeans.
He watches, his breath short. But then again something changes in his face.
“Your eyes… they’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you sure we haven’t met?”
No! Please. I don’t want to stop kissing you. My body rages war with my sense of integrity. Please don’t take this chance away from me. I don’t want to stop. Looking away to hide my giveaway blues, I mumble, “Maybe we’ve had sex before and you just don’t remember.”
He chuckles. “If we had sex, I don’t think you’d have forgotten.”
Instinctively, I counter, “Yeah well, I didn’t think I was so forgettable either.” Kicking myself, I add, “If we had met, I mean. So, we haven’t.” I slide my hand into his jeans and grab his cock with confidence, stroking it. “Do you want me to stop?” I am evil.
He makes the sexiest noise I’ve ever heard. “No. Don’t stop.”
I unzip, slide his jeans down to the floor. “Are you sure? Now’s your chance to walk away a free man.” I’m feeling like the worst person ever born, but the second I see his cock, my pussy screams at me to keep going. I have to taste it. I have to. I bend and take it into my mouth, shutting everything else out.
He grabs onto my head like he can’t help it. His head falls back and he moans as I take all of him into my mouth. I cup the soft fragileness of his sack, toying with it gently. The blood pulsing more and more into his cock is intoxicating. I drive him insane, licking and stroking him, alternating the speed so that when he teeters on the brink of collapse, so close to cumming, I switch gears, slowing down before I build up again, over and over. He yells out, leaning forward and holding onto the wall behind me so he doesn’t fall. I grab his ass with my free hand pulling him back and forth hungrily. I touch the soft space under his sack and he practically yelps. “Oh God! Stop! I won’t be able to hold back. Stop.” Panting, he pushes me back with my mouth open and hungry for him. “Wow. Someone’s had lessons. You’re really good.”
An unwanted memory of Christiano slinks out from the recesses of my mind. On a whisper, I say, “Am I?” Before now, I’ve never gone down on anyone other than Christiano. If I’m good, it’s because he loved me enough to show me what having a good lover can do to you. He changed my life in so many ways. He made me feel beautiful even when I was a mess.
My heart beats fast. I’m closing down. Unable to get rid of the realization that if Christiano knew what I was doing, he would die. I stand and close my eyes, laying my hands flat against the wall. I’m losing track of what’s going on. The worlds are blending, Tuscany and San Francisco. Why did he have to remind me of Christiano? I was so good at forgetting about him tonight, until now. But it’s not easy to make four and a half years disappear.