6. Christa
Emily parked outside the bar,grinning at the rest of us like the devil would be praising her right now. I knew this was a bad idea, but after that counseling session, I desperately needed to do something I wouldn’t normally do.
“Are you sure about this?” Bridget asked.
She and Amy were against coming here. It wasn’t so much that it was a bar. It was the fact that this particular bar was known as the rough bar in town. Usually, if I wanted a drink at the end of the day, the girls and I would go to a restaurant and get appetizers while we drank in a more civilized environment. This was…exactly as my father described it.
It looked fairly new, and I vaguely remembered that it had blown up in some explosion or something. It wasn’t the design of the building that had me cringing inside. It was the clientele. Bikes lined the drive and loud music could be heard even over the radio playing in our car.
“It’s not that bad,” I finally said, flinging the door open.
“I’ve been here,” Emily grinned as she got out and adjusted her dress. “It’s better than it looks. I promise.” Out of all of us, Emily was the wild one. Even though her parents went to church regularly and even sent her to a private Christian school, it did nothing to tame the wild child inside.
The rest of us weren’t quite as willing to break from the mold.
Pulling up my big girl pants, I reached out and grasped Bridget’s hand, squeezing tight as I approached the building. I wasn’t scared about going in. I was desperately afraid that Paul was right about me. He always told me I didn’t know how to let go and have fun. Part of that was true. I was raised in a Christian household and followed the rules to a T. I was the epitome of “the good girl”.
And I hated it deep down.
As I got older, I feared that by always doing the right thing, I was missing out on so much. Surely there were people out there who went to church, but also knew how to let loose and have fun. That could be me. I could be the woman who taught music at the church by day and lived the wild life at night.
“You can do this,” Emily grinned, running up beside me and throwing her arm around my shoulder. “This is gonna be good.”
“You’re such a bad influence,” Amy snapped. “This is wrong. We should leave.”
“It’s a bar,” Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m taking her to a strip club and buying her a lap dance.”
Though, that sounded kind of interesting at the moment.
“I’m just saying, what would happen if the congregation found out you were here?”
“I imagine they would think I was getting a drink with my friends,” I replied calmly.
I had to believe anyone would see it that way. I was dressed modestly, wearing a dress that was tighter fitting, but not so tight that it was considered scandalous. My shoes weren’t hooker heels, though I always secretly wanted to wear them. And I didn’t even wear that much makeup. My appearance in no way screamed that I was out for a wild night.
Bridget pulled the door open, winking at me. She was somewhere between the side of the devil and on the right hand of God. She was the one who would keep me level while Emily tried to draw me into temptation and Amy tried to drag me out the door.
I walked inside with all the confidence I never felt. The bar was pretty full, which surprised me for a Thursday night. I found a high table that would fit all of us and quickly walked over to snag it before anyone else grabbed it. Once settled on the high bar stool, I took a deep breath and perused the customers. Most of them were laughing and having a good time, but no one looked like they were drunk and ready for a bar fight.
“See?” I beamed. “It’s just a normal gathering place.”
“Right,” Amy snorted. “There’s nothing here that could potentially put your job in danger.”
“If they want to fire me for coming to get a drink with friends, maybe I don’t want to belong to the congregation.”
I said it with determination, but inside, my gut churned with doubt. I really hoped the church wouldn’t kick me out, but even I had my doubts that they would understand what I was here to do.
“It’s just like the Amish,” Bridget said, jumping to my aid. “They send teens off on their Rumspringa to help them make a decision on the path they want to follow. This is your Rumspringa.”
I grabbed the drink menu off the center of the table to distract myself from the nerves jumping inside me. Wine was my go-to drink, but if I was going to really do this, I needed to order something a little more wild. I clearly recalled asking my grandpa the best way to have a martini when I was younger, and I’d never forgotten his answer.
A lady never drinks a martini, but if you do, you always order a gin martini.
Decision made, I set the menu down and grinned at the memory of my grandpa. He was taken too early from this world, but I was lucky enough to get the years I had with him.
“I really think?—”
“Can I get you ladies anything?” a waitress asked, walking over in a low-cut tank top and cutoff shorts.
“I’ll have a gin martini,” I beamed.
I expected some surprised reaction from her, but instead, she just jotted it down as if she didn’t give two figs what I ordered.
“Rum and coke,” Emily ordered.
“Um…” Bridget’s eyes flicked to mine hesitantly before she ordered. “Manhattan.”
The waitress nodded. “And you?”
Amy pursed her lips. “Coke.”
“And?” the waitress asked.
“And have a pleasant night,” Amy answered with a smile on her face.
The waitress rolled her eyes and walked away. I took a deep breath and waited impatiently for my drink. I didn’t know what to do now that we were here. Obviously, talking to each other would be helpful, but I couldn’t think of a single thing to say now that we were out here doing this.
“So…” Bridget shot me a tight smile. “How did things go with Paul?”
“You saw Douchebag Paul?” Emily gasped.
Amy slapped her hand, shooting her a dirty look. I hadn’t yet told anyone but Bridget about Paul’s indiscretions. After all, she was the only one who wouldn’t judge me or shout to the heavens about how evil he was. But they all knew I was going to counseling with him. That had been practically advertised in the Sunday bulletin by my father, something I was still fuming over.
“Um…yeah, for our counseling session.”
“Right, the one where you were supposed to work out your problems,” Emily retorted. She’d never liked Paul. I guess because she was wilder than the rest of us, she was able to see him for what he really was.
“It was…not good. I don’t think we’ll go anymore.” I shot a knowing look at Bridget, who nodded.
I was relieved from having to tell them anything else when the waitress arrived with our drinks. Emily was the first to knock hers back, already signaling for another. She must be an old pro at this. I sipped mine, grimacing at the strong flavor. But if I was going to do this, I wasn’t going to back down.
My attention was drawn from my drink as a group of men walked in, all of them smiling and laughing. They were…unusually large. As in, they had muscles on top of muscles and were more handsome than even the Greek Gods.
I wetted my lips as I stared at them, taking another sip of my martini without even realizing it.
“Oh my God. Talk about a fun night ahead of us,” Emily chuckled. “I’m going to check it out.”
Without another word, she was off her stool and headed over with her drink in hand. I wished I could be as confident as her, to be willing to walk up to a man and introduce myself. Yet, here I was, sipping my martini as I ogled the men with rapt fascination. One man in particular caught my eye. Dressed in a pink Hawaiian shirt and wearing a straw fedora, he had that coolness about him that none of the others had. It made me jealous. How was he able to sit back without a care in the world, smoking a cigar and grinning at everyone like he knew all their secrets?
And then he glanced my way, and I was stupid enough not to look away. His eyes locked on mine, though they were hidden behind sunglasses. I should have looked away, but I was caught in his snare. I licked my lips again, staring at the scruff lining his jaw. He was a real man, not like Paul who would never dare to have something as dirty as facial hair. What would it be like to kiss a man like him and feel those tiny hairs brushing against my face?
Whoo, it was getting hot in here. I reached back, unable to tear my gaze from his, and grabbed the martini glass from the table. In one bold move, I downed the rest of the alcohol, nearly choking on it as the liquor scorched my throat. I didn’t even realize how seductive it looked until I slid the stick of olives into my mouth and sucked one off the stick.
He tore the glasses from his face and sat up, staring intently at me. As I twirled the olive stick in my mouth, I realized that I was sending totally unintentional dirty signals to this man.
And I liked it.
Whether it was the booze or the freeing feeling of having a man lust over me, my head was swimming with desire. And when he stood and stomped across the floor, I sat up straighter, hoping I didn’t screw this up.
“You are not doing this,” Amy hissed in my ear.
“You are so doing this,” Emily giggled. “Go get that D!”
Is that what I was doing? And when had she come back? It must have been while I was lusting over the sexy man with the cigar.
“Are you sure about this?” Bridget asked, always the voice of reason who was on my side and only worried about how my decisions would affect me.
But right now, I wasn’t sure there was a single thing floating through my brain other than how much I wanted to feel this man’s arms around me. And when he stopped in front of me and held out his hand to me, I found myself slipping mine in his and allowing him to pull me down from the stool.
“Max,” he said, his voice gruff and full of sex appeal.
For a second, I couldn’t find my voice, but when I looked up into his eyes, I found myself speaking without any thought. “Christa.”
“Beautiful.”
That one word sent chills down my spine, causing me to shiver. Humor spread across his lips as he stared down at me. I felt my glass being taken from my hand just as he pulled me out to the center of the bar and into his massive arms. His large hand spread across my back, pulling me closer to him…so close I could feel every hard inch of him. I sucked in a breath when he lowered his lips to my ear and his hot breath danced across my skin.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, nipping at my ear.
I blushed hard, feeling flush and dizzy all at the same time. This man had an effect on me that I couldn’t describe. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed him to pull me into his arms like that or let him suck on my ear as he was currently doing. Wasn’t this wrong? Maybe…dirty?
Oh, who the hell cared?
I slid my hand up his bicep, taking note that I couldn’t even wrap my hand halfway around his arm. I gasped when his lips sucked on my neck, trailing up and down the entire column and leaving not a trace untouched. My eyes slid shut against my will as I stopped thinking and just let myself feel for once in my life.
“Christa.” I vaguely recognized the voice as I opened my eyes and allowed Max to spin me around. Amy was standing there, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at me. She was pissed, and I imagined it had something to do with the fact that I was basically allowing a man to maul me in the middle of a bar.
“Yes?”
“Can we talk?”
I was about to answer when Bridget and Emily came to my rescue, dragging her away. Bridget held up her hand, telling me to call her. She was leaving? I watched as they dragged Amy out of the bar.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Max asked.
My gaze shifted to his and I nodded. “Martini,” I answered without a second thought. I felt his hand drift lower, sweeping just above my butt as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Shocked at first, I didn’t move, but when I did, he took advantage, swiping his tongue inside my mouth. I gasped at the intrusion, sliding my hand up his neck as he dipped me, deepening the kiss.
In a flash, the kiss ended and he was walking to the bar, leaving me all alone in the center of the bar. What the hell was I doing? I gathered my wits, finally looking around the bar. No one was really paying attention. In fact, there was only one person from the entire bar whose eyes were on me, and that was someone from the group that walked in with Max.
I shifted, uncomfortable with the attention, even if it was only from one person. “What am I doing?” I muttered to myself. Shaking my head, I walked over to the high table I had been sitting at and picked up my purse. I should have left with the girls.
“Going somewhere?” Max rumbled behind me. He set the drinks on the table, then slid his hands around my waist, resting them on my stomach. I sucked in a breath and tried not to get lost in the feel of his hands on my body. But then he slid my hair over one shoulder and pressed his lips to my neck, and I got lost all over again.
“Um…” I struggled to think clearly with his hands and lips on me.
“Baby,” he grumbled, his hand sliding up to cup my breast.
Gasping, I spun, ready to tell him that was inappropriate, but his lips slammed against mine.
Sin.
It was so wrong, but felt so good. I didn’t even think as he bent me back, practically making love to my mouth right there in the bar. And it felt dangerous, sinful, and everything I needed at the moment.
“Let’s go,” he murmured in my ear.
Licking my lips, I grabbed the drink he set on the table behind me and took a long swallow, gathering the courage to go through with this. When I turned back to him, I knew there was no backing down. I wanted this, even if my brain was screaming at me to walk away. For just once in my life, I wanted to do something that was wrong and not feel guilty about it.
I let him lead me out of the bar, and when he pulled me over to the truck, I didn’t hesitate to climb inside. He didn’t say a word as he got in and started up the engine. I didn’t have a clue what to say, so I stayed silent the whole two-minute ride down the road. He pulled up to a gated company, but drove past it to the new subdivision of houses that were built only for the men who worked at the construction company.
Nerves erupted inside me as he stopped outside a large house. Was I really going to go through with this? I wasn’t a virgin. Not technically. I’d done…some stuff. It might have qualified as sex, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t up to date on what qualified as just messing around or actually doing the deed.
God, I was going to embarrass myself. This man was older than me—much older from the looks of it. I was young and naive. Even at twenty-five, I didn’t have the experience to walk into that house and give him what a man expected. Maybe I should just ask him to take me home.
He parked and got out, not even turning to face me. When he flung my door open, his hands were around my waist in an instant, pulling me out. I stumbled behind him, not even aware of what was going on as chaotic thoughts filled my head. I was vaguely aware of walking upstairs and down a hall, but the moment the door to a room shut, that was when I realized I was here.
And this was going to happen.
He tore his shirt over his head and that was the last I thought of walking out the door. His arms and chest were covered with tattoos. Black ink swirled over his skin in the most mesmerizing patterns that distracted me from what was happening.
Until he backed me up against the door and took my mouth again.
“Max,” I said breathlessly as he slid his hand up my dress, tearing at my panties. This was going so fast, way faster than I had imagined. But as his fingers brushed my clit, I stopped thinking about how I was wholly unprepared for this and dove into the electricity flowing through my body. I wanted this and relished being naughty for just one night. No regrets.
“That’s it, baby. Cream for me,” he grumbled, sucking on my neck.
His dirty words turned me on and I knew I was soaking his fingers. I cried out when he shoved two fingers deep inside me and slammed them inside over and over again.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking tight for me. Your cunt is gonna squeeze my dick.”
My body clenched around his fingers at the dirty words that spilled from his lips. Despite the indescribable pain, I couldn’t tell him to stop. I wanted to know what it was like to have his…dick…inside me.
“Oh God!” I gasped, slapping my hand over my mouth as I uttered the Lord’s name in such a setting. I was going to be cursed for the next twenty years.
“Scream my name, baby. Tell me how much you want my cock stuffing your pussy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut as a tingling sensation built inside me. I’d only orgasmed once before, but it was enough to remember the sensation. Except, as he pressed his thumb to my clit, I realized this orgasm was going to be nothing like my first. My legs shook and my body folded over on itself, stopped only by his massive frame. Muscles contracted and screams shattered from my lips as I fell apart on his fingers.
Black spots danced in front of me as he grabbed my boneless body and tossed me on the bed. Exhausted, I thought we were done, but then he spread my legs and nestled between them, shoving his cock inside me in one harsh thrust. I screamed at the intrusion, but his lips quickly covered mine, swallowing the pain.
He didn’t waste a second moving inside me. My legs were thrown over his shoulders as his hips pistoned against my body. I held onto the covers, desperate for some sense of balance as the world crumbled around me. The pain quickly turned to pleasure, building inside of me. I could feel another orgasm coming on, but this one felt stronger and I wasn’t sure I could handle it.
“It’s coming!” I shouted, vaguely hearing him chuckle.
He thought it was funny, but I was pretty sure this was the end for me. I was going to die from an orgasm, and some poor guy was going to have to tell my father that I was found dead in this man’s bed after he defiled me. My father would have a heart attack and my mother would mourn the loss of her child.
“Eyes on me, baby.”
At his command, I stared up into his eyes. They darkened and in a flash, he sat back, pulling me up to straddle his thighs.
“Ride me, baby. Milk my cock with your sweet pussy.”
I didn’t know what I was doing—if it was right or even pleasurable for him. But I did as he said, closing my eyes as I let my body tell me what to do.
“Eyes!” he snapped.
My eyes flew open and I kept them on him as I bounced up and down. His jaw clenched as he gripped my hips to the point of pain. “Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah,” he growled, slamming his lips to mine. “Harder. Fuck my cock. Make me spill my cum inside you.”
That was all it took to push me over the edge. My body squeezed around him and I flung my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as I shattered. He gripped my hips harder, thrusting up into me over and over again until he cried out. We fell backward onto the bed and that was it. I passed out just moments later.