Starstruck
The room is dimly lit by my candle that sits on my nightstand. The sall amount of wax in the jar makes the long-burning wick noticeable. A faint smell of what is supposed to be apple and cinnamon lingers in my room.
“Do you like that, Thalia? Do you like it when I’m this close to you?
Do you like it when my voice is only for you?
” His deep, breathy tone in my left ear is all I can hear while he hovers on top of me.
His full lips barely touch the tips of my ear and my body breaks out in goosebumps.
The hair from his thick beard brushes against my cheek and jawline.
He leaves a trail of soft kisses from the middle of my neck to the middle of my exposed chest.
His steel-grey eyes peer into mine as he plants his tattooed arms on either side of my head. “Tell me you want me,” he softly commands. His lips move softly across my jaw to under my chin.
“I want you. Please, Lee.” His mouth moves into a smile at my plea.
I feel his warm skin against mine as he slowly pushes his hard dick inside me.
A moan leaves my lips, and I watch as the shadow from the small flame hits all of the defined lines in his sculpted body.
My eyes trace over his tattoos from his neck down to the middle of his broad chest. His dark ink stands out against the orange flame.
“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His breathy voice goes faster as he picks up speed.
He moves my legs further apart as he comes closer, making it so his thighs are against mine.
Another moan escapes my throat, and my breath is just as quick as his.
“That’s it, Thalia. Just like that. Ah , fuck, you feel so good .
” His low, guttural groan sends a shiver of heat to my core.
My legs go clammy, and I can feel them start to shake. My headboard is in rhythm with our synchronized breathing.
“Oh, fuck, yes, Lee.” I quietly moan against the warm skin on his neck. My mind goes blank, and all I can think about is this moment. My hand grips my black comforter as my body starts to relax and go tense all at once. I am so close to pure satisfaction, until–
My phone vibrates, shattering the illusion of him and the sound of his accented voice. Of course . The sound of my vibrator still buzzes on my bed just past my thigh.
“Yeah.” My voice is breathy and short.
“Hey girl. What are you doing?” Jace asks, replacing Lee's voice on the other end of my phone. He is so lucky I love him.
“Oh, you know, just practicing self-care before work.”
“Self-care? Did you go running or something?”
“Jace, you know I don’t run.”
“Then why are you so out of breath?... Shit. New episode?” He laughs.
“Something like that.”
“Girl, normal people don’t answer the phone…” He pauses.
“I listen on my phone…”
“Just hit ignore, damn… or you could just talk to him.”
“That sounds like a horrible idea. Whenever I see him, I feel like I am going to throw up.”
“Better that than fucking him in your head by yourself.” I guess he has a point.
“It’s safer in my head. There isn’t any chance of rejection.” It’s so strange picturing him in my head and then seeing him sign paperwork in my place of work .
“Bitch, shut the hell up. He stared at your tits as soon as he came in the door. Get yourself dressed and come into work. It gets lonely here by myself. Especially when Janice has to take inventory in the kitchen.”
“You don’t have to go in early every shift.” Now it’s my turn to laugh.
“My rent says otherwise.” He has a point. “Wear something sexy. I think your producer is coming in.” My producer?
“I’ll see what I can find,” I say, still with a laugh lingering in my tone.
“I know you’ve got something to show off those tits of yours. Hurry up. Love you, bitch.” He clicks off before I have a chance to respond.
I throw the covers off my shaky legs. Please don’t let this be a foreshadowing of what’s to come for the rest of the day .
My fingertips run along the covered hangers in my closet, more of a nook than a closet.
I come to a stop, halting in the middle of the array of black clothes.
My eyes focus on what may be tonight’s winner.
It’s a black bodysuit with small silver stars and crescent moons throughout.
It fits rather snugly on what Jace says are “all of the right places.” The sleeves sit slightly off the shoulder, creating a kind of sweetheart neckline.
There’s that word again. Just the thought of the nickname sends a shiver down my spine, remembering Lee and what he called me last night. And this morning in my fantasy.
I grab a pair of light-washed high-waisted jeans on a hanger not too far from where the bodysuit is hanging.
These are always a favorite of mine. Jace says that my ass looks perfect in them.
I always trust his opinion when it comes to what I wear.
He would tell me otherwise, very bluntly, I might add.
This should do . My black lace-up combat boots go on next.
They’re always a struggle to pull on, but they’re my most comfortable shoes.
They’re my go-to for long shifts at the bar.
These will be perfect for tonight’s ensemble.
The thought comes to my mind as I grab them from the same spot I threw them last night.
The idea that I could see Lee periodically has turned me into a panicked mess.
One of the men I have grown accustomed to, only through my headphones and in my mind, now has a face.
This makes everything more complicated. I think about him hovering on top of me and seeing his face at the perfect angle and his olive skin glowing in candlelight.
The shadows hit every defined line just right.
Concentrate, Thalia. You don’t know if that’s what he looks like.
Now is not the time to fantasize. Get your shit together.
Work has been slow, but that's normal for the middle of the week. The few regulars are spaced out around the bar with their heads permanently stuck in the downward position, staring at their phone screens. It is a wild night for me. I catch myself eyeing the door every so often and start to second-guess if he’s even coming in tonight.
Did I wear my “tits get you tips” bodysuit for nothing?
Jace acknowledges my desperation. His facial expression is full of pity as he walks over to my side of the bar.
“Girl, you keep checking that door like it’s going to come off the hinges.”
“I’m honestly just regretting my outfit choices.” He notices me shifting in my uncomfortable jeans. I should have just gone with my black jeans and a sweater. My boots make a squeaking sound underneath me as I lean my body up against the bar. The night is far from over and my feet are already sore.
“What? You think he ain’t coming?” He asks, doing that thing where his voice raises at every question.
“I don’t care if he comes. I’m sure he has better things to do. Maybe other bars to supply.” My arms cross instinctively on my chest. Why does the idea of him not coming in disappoint me so much, and did I just get jealous?
“Girl, you ain’t fooling anyone. You look at him like he’s your favorite bowl of noodles you get from that Thai restaurant. You have no fucking clue, do you?” His eyebrows lower.
“I don’t,” I admit, lowering my arms to my waist. It’s true. I am terrible at this. Dating is not my strong suit. I have no idea how to flirt, unless I’m drunk. Even then, it’s still not good. More vulgar and sloppy than something to be admired.
“Well, bitch, I guess now it’s your chance to find out.” His eyes move to the front doors. He pauses, and his dark brown eyes go wide. “Oh, look, he brought a friend. Damn. He’s fucking fine as hell too.” The doors swing open, bringing in the cold autumn breeze with them.
Lee is first as the two of them walk in.
His voice echoes in the bar. “Come on, there is someone I want you to meet.” His eyes meet mine.
My cheeks get hotter as his face turns into that smirk he does.
Still leaning up against the bar, I feel my knees start to go weak.
Not but a few hours ago, I was imagining this man over top of me, fucking me in dim candle light, and here he is walking towards me, with a friend no less. Don’t panic, just act natural.
Jace’s footsteps become quieter as he walks towards the other end of the bar. Please don’t leave me like this. With pleading eyes, I do my best to beg him to stay with me. His smile is all the confirmation I need to know I am on my own.
Out of sheer nervousness and panic, I grab the closest glass I can see.
Cleaning has always been there to hide my anxiety.
His guest enters shortly after, walking in the small space between Lee and the door.
His long black coat falls past his waist to the middle of his thighs.
My eyes trace up his sleeves, which fit snugly around his arms. His hair is a darker shade of auburn.
He wears it short on the sides but not completely shaven, and a little curly on the top.
Although it’s a bit disheveled, it looks like he just woke up, but he has that aura about him.
He knows how amazingly attractive he is, and it drives me to keep all of my attention on him.
Stop staring, Thalia. Nothing to see here. Oh, fuck. Here he comes.
“Hey, Sweetheart. Cleaning glasses again?” Lee's Manhattan accent takes me back to this morning, making my insides feel like they’re melting.
His eyes peer up to mine, the vibrant color of them leaving me momentarily speechless.
It's as if the world around me freezes. He has no idea what he does to me. Maybe he does, and that’s why he keeps his eyes glued to mine.
In my peripheral vision, I can see his friend removing his black coat and hanging it on the back of the bar stool. The tight fit of his shirt on his sculpted arms nearly makes my ogling eyes pop out of my head.