Confessions of a Bad Boy(27)
I let out a long, slow breath, suddenly realizing how tense my muscles are. This is going to be harder than I imagined. What the hell is happening to me? It’s Jessie, for f*ck’s sake. I grew up with her, she’s one of the few people I can actually call a friend, and yet here I am feeling full of a fire that only she can put out.
Without realizing, I start pacing around the room, shaking my arms and rolling my neck to get rid of the tense desire I’m feeling.
It’s just time, that’s all. That has to be it. It’s been four days since I slept with a woman – it’s not a record, but it’s bordering on one. Being here, having to go through the fa?ade of pretending she’s my girlfriend – I just need to relieve some stress.
Suddenly I hear the shower turn on, and amid the rush of water hear the shower door slide closed, slightly muffling the hiss. Now all I’m thinking about is the hot streams running down Jessie’s body. How she might be rolling her fingers down her neck, around her breasts. My own hand finds its way down to the waistband of my jeans, the excruciating hardness inside. I think of how she’ll arch her back and raise her head like she’s moaning, her fingers following the flow of water down her front to the suppleness of her inner thighs— Fuck! I move away from the bathroom door, far enough that she won’t be able to hear me if I keep my voice low enough, tearing apart my shirt so quickly a button pops, then pulling my phone from my pocket. I angle the camera towards my abs, and press record.
This is gonna be a weird one - one I bet you never thought I’d make. Tonight I wanna talk about not f*cking, about holding back, about restraint. Keeping all of your urges in check even when there’s someone so absurdly hot, so extremely, unbelievably, exceptionally f*cking beautiful that you feel like exploding just knowing they’re nearby…
8
Nate
After a long, cold shower (and a little self-relief) I’m just about able to control myself around Jessie again. Helped a little by the fact that she’s wearing a loose-fitting, light-blue knee-length skirt that’s just a little short of devastating if I look at her head-on…though her thin-strapped yellow top still outlines enough of her teardrop breasts to magnetize my line of sight.
“You ready?” she says, stepping out of the bathroom.
I look up from my phone.
“Very nice. You hiding a hairdresser in there?”
“Shut up.”
“I mean it,” I say sincerely. Her hair falls about her face in thick, black waves, lending her looks a little of the exotic.
“Well…thank you.”
I stand up and offer Jessie my arm.
“Shall we?”
“Sure, booboo,” she smiles, linking her arm with mine.
After wandering around the retreat for a while, we finally find the bar by moving towards the noisiest, busiest part – it turns out we’re not the only ones seeking a pre-dinner cocktail. There are around thirty people, though the area is so spacious it doesn’t seem as much. Most of them are casually milling around the bar, or moving between those sitting cross-legged on lounge chairs, glasses held loosely in hand.
“Do you recognize anyone here?” Jessie asks, leaning towards me.
“A couple of faces. Clients…competitors.”
“Wait, is that Michael Stross?”
I turn to cast a surprised look at Jessie. “How do you know him?”
Now it’s Jessie who’s registering surprise. “Don’t you remember that summer the three of us went to all the midnight showings of his cheesy sci-fi flicks? They had a marathon. We saw all of them twice.”
The memory comes to me quickly. “Oh yeah. Good times.”
We stroll towards the bar, exchanging a few nods to the strangers who notice us – possibly more than most due to the fact that we seem to be the youngest people there. After ordering our drinks – a single malt for me and a colorful concoction for Jessie after she asks the barman to ‘surprise’ her – we raise them towards each other, and take a sip.
Before I can even ask how Jessie’s drink tastes, the sound of laughter and chatter enters the room, followed by a group of about a dozen men and women, with Robinson at the forefront. Like a squadron of birds they quickly form around us at the bar, to the sound of alpha-male jokes and sassy female ripostes rapidly firing. We find ourselves next to Robinson and Alexandra, and adjust our position to face them.
“Nate! Just the guy I want to see!” Robinson booms even more loudly than usual. “Here, let me give you a quick guide to these rascals.”
“Arthur,” Alexandra says in a voice so droll and slinky it’s like her lips are next to my ear, “isn’t it a little early to start talking business?”
“It’s Nate’s first time! The quicker he starts learning some names, the quicker he can start pulling those moves he’s gained a reputation for.”
Alexandra rolls her eyes and smiles wryly, and I already know the gesture’s going to be planted in my memory for a long time.
“Well, if you insist, then I’m going to take my drink to the pool.” She shifts her feet as if to go, then smiles at Jessie. “Unless you enjoy watching men perform rituals only a little less primal than apes, I suggest you join me.”