20 - Sophie
20
Sophie
I slipped out of bed and quietly pulled my clothes on. The trailer creaked as I shifted my weight, but Johnny was completely passed out in bed, snoring softly. I glanced back at him while shimmying into my panties. The comforter covered his lower half, but his upper body was visible, one muscular arm thrown over the pillow as he slept on his side. I wanted to curl back into bed, to mold my body into his and resume snuggling.
But there was one thing I hated more than anything in the world: the awkward morning-after. It always ruined the fun of the night before, like a cold shower after a hot bath. It was easier if I left now.
Not to mention, I preferred to sleep alone. I was grumpy when I didn’t get at least seven hours.
I wrote my phone number on a notepad and then tiptoed to the door. Dusty raised his head from the dog bed on the floor, tail swishing back and forth as he watched me. “Don’t take it personally,” I whispered, bending down to pet him. “I’d cuddle with you any day.”
He pushed his head against the back of my hand as if agreeing with me, then went back to sleep.
I slept in the next morning, and woke to a text message from an unknown number. But it wasn’t hard to figure out who the sender was.
Johnny : With riding skills like that, you should join the rodeo.
Me : Sorry, who’s this?
Johnny : Ha ha. This is the cowboy you squeezed dry. I’m downright dehydrated from all our fun.
Me : That doesn’t narrow it down very much. You’ll have to be more specific.
Johnny : I’m the man who made you come on the countertop just after midnight. Then made you come a second time with my mouth and fingers. And finally, after moving to the bed, made you come a THIRD time.
Me : Actually, I came twice in bed. They happened real fast, back-to-back. So that’s four times total.
Johnny : Ah, so you do remember me.
Me : I’ll be honest with you: it would take a concussion to make me forget last night.
Johnny : Now THAT’S the response I was hoping to get. I must have missed you slipping out this morning.
Me : I left around two. I sleep better in my own bed.
Johnny : Normally, I’d be offended. But last night was so damn good that I’ll let it slide.
Johnny : Let me know when you want to do it again.
I stared at the last text and wondered what I should say. Before responding, I had to figure out what I wanted. Was last night just a one-time thing, or did I want to keep it going?
That question continued to pester me, so I wrote him something vague.
Me : Might have to wait—tonight’s my only night off for the next week, and I already have plans.
Johnny : All good. Probably for the best, since I need to focus on my next event. But I’ll be thinking about last night for a while, Sky Eyes.
Me : Me too, Cowboy Cock.
Johnny : …
Johnny : Cowboy Cock?
Me : What? You’re allowed to give me a nickname based on your favorite part of me, but I can’t do the same?
Johnny : First of all, I’m glad my cock is your favorite part of me. Little Johnny is mighty fond of you, too.
Johnny : And second, your eyes are definitely not my favorite part of you. Not anymore.
Me : Oh? Which is your favorite now?
Johnny : I’ll tell you whenever we get around to that second date ;-)
Damn. That was a good line. Now I definitely didn’t want last night to be a one-time thing.
“Of course you don’t!” Liz exclaimed while we walked down Magnolia Boulevard, a swanky street south of downtown Fort Worth full of shops, bars, and restaurants. We had already gotten burgers at Gusto’s, and were now walking to the bar for drinks. “That man made you come four times in a single night. You should marry him.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would,” Liz insisted. “It took months of dating Travis before he figured out how to make me come. And even though he now knows how to drive this tractor , so to speak, he’s never made me come four times.”
We showed our IDs to the bouncer at The Usual and then walked inside. The lights were low in the bar, and there was a pretty good crowd tonight filling the tables. We ordered drinks at the bar, went into the adjacent room of the bar, and found a booth tucked away against a wall.
“It’s nice to have someone else serve us alcohol for a change,” I commented after our drinks arrived.
“It’s nice to be around college kids, too,” Liz muttered while looking around. “I normally hate all the rich TCU students, but they’re half as annoying as the rodeo crowd. But I’m not letting you change the subject, Sophie. Last night was fun? You don’t regret it?”
“I definitely don’t regret it, and yes, it was fun,” I replied.
“See? I’m the one who said you need to let loose every once in a while!”
“You were right,” I admitted. “I think the best part was that we were both sober. I like getting sloppy as much as the next girl, but we were both so focused last night. We walked around with his dog, eating hot dogs and ice cream and learning about each other. Once I got to know Johnny, it was easier to sleep with him. That’s why I was able to come four times. I was comfortable and relaxed around him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Like I said: Travis has never made me come four times, and I know literally everything about him.”
“It was fun,” I continued. “But it’s not serious. Obviously, he’s going back home to Colorado at the end of the rodeo.”
“You don’t want to try the long-distance thing?”
I scoffed. “Is that a serious question? Hell, no. Long-distance sucks.”
“What if he’s worth it?” she insisted.
“Liz,” I said, giving her a look. “He could be Adrien Brody and I still wouldn’t try a long-distance relationship.”
“Adrien Brody is too boney. And his nose makes his face look like a sailboat.”
“Is that what we’re doing tonight?” I teased. “Making fun of each other’s celebrity crush? Because I can say a lot of mean things about yours. Like the fact that he’s in his eighties.”
“Christopher Walken is experienced!” Liz argued. “And that voice… he wouldn’t even need to touch me. He could just talk dirty to me in that special way he talks and I would melt .”
“The point I was trying to make,” I insisted, “is that I don’t want a long-distance relationship. There are too many men in the Dallas-Fort Worth area for me to date a guy two states away. Besides, we’re getting way ahead of ourselves. I met Johnny like four days ago and slept with him once.”
“Technically, you slept with him twice,” Liz pointed out. “Plus a sexy intermission.”
“Shut up.”
The sound of an acoustic guitar drifted out of the room next door—amplified by speakers. I glanced at my watch. “I thought they weren’t playing live music until nine.”
“I guess they didn’t want to wait.” Liz sipped her martini. “When does Johnny compete next?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I think he has a few days off before the next event.”
“Why don’t you text him to find out?”
“I don’t want to seem needy,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve already slept together. You don’t need to play hard-to-get. Just text him! I want to see what he says.”
“Ugh, fine.” I pulled out my phone.
Me : When’s your next rodeo event?
Johnny : Steer Wrestling. That event begins next Thursday, but my heat is on Friday. Why do you ask?
Me : Just curious. I wanted to make sure I’m there for it. You need to impress me after your performance in the Saddle Bronc Riding.
Johnny : As long as a gorgeous bartender doesn’t drink me under the table, I think I’ll do just fine.
Me : Who would ever do that?
Johnny : Someone evil, probably.
Me : Probably.
“You two are cute!” Liz insisted. “You have to sleep with him again.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” I took a slow sip of my drink, finishing it off, and then giggled. “But I kind of want to.”
“Atta girl!” She downed the rest of her martini. “I bought the first round, so this one’s on you. Then I’m heading home.”
I took her glass. “Coming right up.”
“Just like you last night!” Liz teased as I slid out of the booth.
I laughed to myself while walking to the next room. It was good to have a night out with my girlfriend. For a pair of bartenders who worked nights, that was rare.
It was louder in the main bar room, where the musician was sitting on a stool on the stage in the corner. He wore a brown cowboy hat, and bent over the guitar while strumming. The song sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.
I handed the bartender the empty glasses and ordered another round. While he made the drinks, I turned and listened to the music. A few notes later, he raised his head up and began singing in a deep, melodic voice.
“Baby, can’t you see I’m callin’?
A girl like you should wear a warnin’.
It’s dangerous, I’m fallin’.”
I blinked. It sounded like a slow country version of Toxic by Britney Spears.
“There’s no escape, I can’t wait.
I need a hit, baby give me it.
You’re dangerous, I’m lovin’ it.”
It was tough to see in the dark bar, especially with his face obscured from the spotlight by his cowboy hat. But as he sang that last line, his eyes locked onto mine from across the room. And I immediately recognized him.
No way .
“Eli?”